


Firsts

by Eiznel24



Series: The Tales We Tell [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Fluff, M/M, Minor science of the academic type, inference to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiznel24/pseuds/Eiznel24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of companion piece to Adjustments. This will be short little ditties of the various ‘firsts’ of Sans’s and Papyrus’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stars

**Author's Note:**

> [Set between the Prologue and Chapter 1] (Don’t quote me on the science, it’s all paraphrased from memory and probably wrong.)
> 
> Stars were rather beautiful, weren't they?

_To say that Gaster was reticent was a massive understatement. Everything the monster did screamed “efficiency”, from the smooth, calculated steps he took to his creased slacks, ribbed turtleneck, and pristine black labcoat to the clipped concise words he spoke in the baritone voice that only Sans and Papyrus could understand. There was, however, one small exception:_

_Passing on his knowledge._

_One evening, shortly after a rather intense tickle battle with Papyrus in his room, Sans asked Gaster about one of the picture books he had found around the lab._

_“doc? what are ‘stars’?”_

_Not bothering to look away from the notes he was poring over, Gaster spit the information out almost on instinct._

_“They are large spherical collections of gas, primarily of helium and hydrogen, supported by nuclear fusion at its core.”_

_“so it’s just gas? how can you see gas?”_

_Lifting his eyes from the notes, Gaster turned his head to look down at Sans._

_“How do you see fire? When the gas reaches a certain temperature, it ignites and gives off light. The ‘fire’ of a star is so bright that it travels through the cosmos, able to be seen light-years away, much like one can see the fire of a candle in another room.”_

_“what’s a light year?”_

_Quirking the corner of his mouth, he tilted the rest of his body so he could face Sans fully._

_“It is a measurement of distance used in space. It measures how far light travels in one year.”_

_“light travels?”_

_Gaster huffed in amusement._

_“Of course it does, Sans. How else would the light of the lab spread to engulf the room? Everything around us is constantly in motion, even if it seems sedentary. It is a fascinating concept. No thing in life is capable of standing still. Even now, everything around us is moving.”_

_Widening his eye sockets, Sans stared at the walls and floor in a mix of wonder and fear._

_“will the lab move? i don’t really like the idea of finding out the lab moved on me.”_

_“The lab will not move, you have no need to worry.”_

_“so…is there somewhere where I can see a star?”_

_At this, Gaster hesitated. Waterfall would not compare to his memories of actual stars, but it would suffice. Should he show him? He’d not allowed the boys to leave the lab yet, and a small, not-so-detached part of him wondered if perhaps that would open a door that he would not be able to close. Was the advancement of Sans’s knowledge worth the risk? …no, not his knowledge, Gaster thought. Seeing Waterfall would not make Sans any more knowledgeable. It would be purely for his benefit, to see the paltry substitute of real stars._

_“…doc?”_

_He had grown far too attached. For as little as he expressed it, he cared about his boys. He wanted them to be happy. Perhaps this is the only way he would be able to show them._

_“There is one place.”_

_Sans opened his mouth excitedly to speak, but was cut off._

_“They are, however, not real stars. Only an imitation. Would you still be interested in seeing them?”_

_Eyes bright, Sans nodded again, his hands clenching in excitement. Sighing softly under his breath, Gaster pushed his chair away from his desk, standing fluidly._

_“Get Papyrus, I will not leave him unsupervised.”_

_Making a mad dash to his brother’s room, Sans left Gaster contemplating the wisdom of his decision. As he listened to the excited chattering in the other room, he paced in a tight circuit, his black wingtip shoes thumping rhythmically against the floor. No one knew yet what he’d done; Sans and Papyrus were his most closely guarded secrets, and given his reclusive nature, no one had bothered to question his increased time away from civilization. A few questions had been raised about the new holes in his hands, but they were easily deflected, citing a failed experiment (lie. The biggest lie in his career. They were his greatest success). Was there a downside to the boys being revealed? He clenched his jaw. No. Even if there was, it was too late for that, now. The plan was already in motion, and he refused to change his mind._

_He traced the hole in his left palm absent-mindedly, thinking back to when he had first seen Sans out of the tube he had been incubated in, all calm and eyes glittering with intelligence. Papyrus had been the opposite, excitable and curious, easily moved to tears by Gaster’s clinically detached demeanor. Sans had immediately moved to comfort the small skeleton, glaring at the scientist and his left eyesocket lighting up with a thick ring of blue magic imitating an eye. The magic coiling around Sans was unstable, overcharged, making the air thick and smelling faintly of ozone. The boy had never been violent before, nor had he ever glared at Gaster so venomously. It was unacceptable, Gaster thought as he narrowed his eyes._

_To Gaster’s surprise, the smaller skeleton seemed to sense the tension in Sans’s body by instinct and he placed his tiny hands on Sans’s face, his right eye lighting up with a thin ring of orange magic, and wisps of that same magic crawled along his fingers and danced across the smooth bone of Sans’s face. Obeying some deep instinct, Sans relaxed, focusing on Papyrus. The two skeletons simply stared at each other, their breaths syncing and Gaster made notations of how the two seemed to be almost symbiotic in nature, recognizing each other on some primal level and adjusting accordingly. Papyrus was only hours old and had an exceptional degree of control over his magic. Perhaps it was only because of Sans’s presence? Gaster couldn’t wait to test it._

_He was knocked out of his reminiscing by a tug on his labcoat, and he looked down to see Sans staring up at him, a faint grin on his face and Papyrus nearly vibrating in place behind him, his eyesockets wide and curious._

_“we’re ready, doc.”_

_Taking a deep breath, he nodded and moved toward the door of the lab, the sound of Sans and Papyrus scrambling to keep up with his long strides behind him. Pausing, he turned and looked down at them, his mouth settling in a firm line. The two boys stopped short behind him, their excited demeanors dropping some._

_“I have some rules that you must abide by if we are to do this. If you break any of these rules, I will immediately bring us back to the lab and further ventures will be postponed indefinitely. Is this understood?”_

_They nodded frantically._

_“Very well. You are to stay by my side at all times. No matter what it is that you become curious about, you are not to stray further than five feet of my person. You are to speak to no one. Do not answer any questions if any are directed at you. Hopefully, this will not be necessary as it is quite late and most of the employees have gone home. Where we are going is not necessarily dangerous, but it is much darker than you are accustomed to, so it is advised to be cautious. As long as you do as I say and stay close to me, this should not be an issue. That will be all. I will ask again: are we understood?”_

_The two skeletons nodded again, this time a bit more apprehensive. Without another word, Gaster opened the door to the lab, the door opening with a distinct hiss of pressurized air, and began striding down the halls, this time at a more sedate pace so the boys could follow easily. The minutes passed quietly, their navigation through the quiet halls almost something of a buildup. Gaster had long become desensitized to discomfort and uneasiness, but he supposed as he looked at the dimmed lights and listened to the echoing footsteps, that the atmosphere was decidedly unnerving._

_At half power, the hallways were only partially lit, a single small light every so often. It left dark spots in between lights, and during those times, Gaster’s dark form would blend in, nearly disappearing from sight. At each end of the hallways, there were red lights that bathed them in an eerie glow, casting strange shadows and feeling worse than the pockets of darkness. As they approached the elevator, he glanced back and saw that Sans no longer looked happy, his brow ridges drawn together in discomfort. He was clutching Papyrus’s hand tightly, and said small skeleton was huddled close to Sans’s body, his eyes darting around in fear._

_“The lobby of the main lab is brighter than this. The darkness will not last much longer.”_

_Silently, they took the elevator to the ground floor and Gaster heard two small sighs of relief when they stepped into the much more comfortably lit lobby. The trip outside the lab was silent, and the short passage through Hotland was punctuated with softly spoken complaints and whispered questions about their surroundings (‘Wha’s that?’ “That’s magma, Papyrus.” ‘Wha’s magma?’ “It is molten rock found beneath the planet’s surface, mixed with minerals and gases.” He paused at this. “Think of it as the blood of the planet.” ‘Blood?’ “…it’s part of what composes more fleshy monsters. You two have no blood because you are skeletons.” ‘Wha’ ‘bout you?’ Look at little Papyrus, asking all the hard-hitting questions. “…I am somewhat different from the two of you.” ‘How?’ “That is enough questions for now. Let us continue.” Sans eyed him curiously from his place next to Papyrus, but didn’t speak). Seeing the vast craggy hole that led into Waterfall, he stopped and turned to face them, his expression flat._

_“I will remind you again that it is dark in Waterfall, at times even darker than the lower lab’s hallways. Are you prepared?”_

_Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other, then back at him, their hands clasping tighter together._

_“we’re ready, doc.”_

_“Very well, then.”_

_His pace slowed down further, occasionally glancing back to see how Sans and Papyrus were doing. There was a look of mild discomfort on their faces, but winning over their apprehension was curiosity. Satisfaction curled in Gaster’s fractured soul. Good. Fear should never overtake the desire to learn. Come to think of it, he was getting dangerously close to feeling pride in them, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Why shouldn’t he be proud?_

(Music suggestion: play this now https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvHfFScyk64&feature=youtu.be [Credit to Katie+Bergenholtz for the suggestion!] )

_Time passed, and Gaster eventually came to a stop in a tucked away corner of the wishing room. Sans and Papyrus were looking around wide-eyed at the Echoflowers, their soft blue glow settling over them gently._

_“doc…what are these?”_

_“These are called Echoflowers. They are scattered throughout Waterfall, and will endlessly repeat the last thing they ‘heard’ until something new takes its place.”_

_“They’re pretty!”_

_“Indeed, Papyrus. This is one of the draws of Waterfall, as Echoflowers are unique to this region. The other is…well. Sans.”_

_“yea, doc?”_

_“You wanted to see the stars, right?”_

_“i really do.”_

_“Then look up.”_

_Both of the boys turned their gazes toward the ceiling of the massive cavern they were in and their jaws slowly fell open. Sans’s eyes were wide, his hands shaking slightly as he took in the sight of the large glowing crystals embedded in the dark rock above them. Stepping behind them, Gaster slowly guided them to seated positions, the corner of his mouth attempting to quirk up in a smile._

_“wow…”_

_“This is but a pale imitation of the real night sky, but it will have to suffice. I trust you are satisfied?”_

_With what seemed like monumental effort, Sans tore his eyes away from the view and looked over to where Gaster had seated himself, his posture relaxed as he watched them._

_“g, this is incredible…thank you.”_

_His brow quirked at the nickname, but he’d let it slide for now. He watched as they both flopped onto their backs, and his scientific mind still quirked in fascination at how they still seemed to synchronize their movements unconsciously without any verbal indication. Perhaps they would grow out of it. Perhaps not. He realized he probably would not be able to keep them forever now that he had led them out here. Even without this excursion, actually. He doubted he’d be strong enough to hold them both back, no matter how confident in his abilities he was._

_Given Papyrus’s rate of growth, he would likely be his height or taller, and Sans would probably only grow a few more inches, his magic more dedicated to keeping him alive in his early days of life than to developing his body. Papyrus’s control over magic was prodigal and would become an incredible warrior and strategist if he ever brought himself to actually hurt something. The boy was far too kindhearted for his own good. Sans, on the other hand, had taught himself an ‘all-or-nothing’ approach, given his low constitution. He had become rather exceptional at dodging, while slinging flurries of bone to bring an end to the match as quickly as possible._

_They would be fine, he told himself. The boys were now pointing out shapes in the crystal formations, laughing to themselves (‘tha one looks like a bunny!’ ‘sure does, pap. look, that one looks like a slipper.’ ‘No it doesn’! It looks like a spoon.’) and soon breaking out in another tickling match, Sans easily gaining the upper hand again while Papyrus squealed with laughter._

_‘One day,’ he vowed silently, ‘you will see real stars.’_

_‘Even if I may not be there to see it with you.’_

Near the foot of the mountain, Sans paused. It was quite dark now that the sun had long since set, but he noticed that his body still cast a shadow in the clearing he’d stepped into. A shadow…at nighttime? He looked over to Papyrus, becoming transfixed as he saw the soft bluish-white light that his brother was bathed in. He was afraid to look up. Afraid and excited.

  “hey pap?”

  “YES, BROTHER?”

  “c’mere for a sec.”

Marching over with a bounce in his step, Papyrus looked down at Sans, a soft smile across his face.

  “WHAT IS IT, SANS?”

  “…sit with me.”

Papyrus quirked a brow ridge in confusion.

  “HERE?”

  “yeah. just trust me.”

  “BUT WHAT ABOUT UNDYNE AND HIS MAJESTY?”

  “we’ll catch up with them in a minute paps. just…sit with me, please?”

Once they were both situated, Papyrus with his arms wrapped around his knees and Sans cross-legged, Sans spoke, his voice even more subdued than normal.

  “do you remember the ‘stars’ in waterfall?”

  “OF COURSE I DO, SANS! I WOULD ALWAYS WISH ON THE STARS TO BE POPULAR AND COOL!”

  “you were already cool, paps.”

  “BUT I WANTED TO BE POPULAR, TOO!”

  “well, what if i told you you could wish on a real star?”

There was a moment of hesitation.

  “THOSE WEREN’T REAL STARS?”

A chuckle.

  “they were as real as you wanted ‘em to be. but no, they weren’t really stars.”

  “OH…”

  “bro, do me a favor.”

Papyrus looked over at Sans, his gaze questioning. Sans had his eyes closed, his body shaking slightly. Was he cold? Nervous? Sad? Excited?

  “SANS?”

  “on the count of three, i want you to look up. alright?”

  “ALRIGHT.”

  “…okay. one.”

  “two.”

Sans clutched at his knees.

   “three.”

He took a deep breath.

  “look up.”

They both tilted their heads skyward and Papyrus gasped, his eyesockets widening at the sight. Sans was rendered mute, his eyes darting across the sky. It was…breathtaking. The moon was so much brighter than Sans ever thought it would be, full and silver-blue, a faint halo of pale prismatic color surrounding it in a wide ring. Surrounding the moon and its halo were thousands upon thousands of glittering pinpricks of light, a dense band of bluish-purplish-whitish stars off to his left (an arm of the Milky Way, his mind supplied).

  “OH MY GOSH, SANS. IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL…”

He felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and he fought them viciously, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back a sudden surge of emotion. It had been so long since he’d felt anything other than grief and mindless rage. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

  “yeah…it really is.”

Memories rushed past in his head, most involving his creator and Papyrus, and he felt a tear escape his left eye. As discreetly as possible, he wiped it away, taking steps to regulate his breathing.

  _‘this is incredible, G,’_ he thought, unconsiously mimicking the words from his childhood, _‘It’s so much better than the books, and so much better than everything you told me.’_

  “SANS?”

Swallowing down another surge of emotion, he forced himself to speak, his voice coming out as nothing more than a raspy whisper.

  “yeah paps?”

  “THIS IS INDESCRIBABLE. THANK YOU.”

  “what’re ya thankin me for? i haven’t done anything.”

Papyrus closed his eyes and smiled, his chin tilted upwards.

  “YOU DON’T HAVE TO ‘DO’ ANYTHING, SANS. I MAY HAVE NEVER LOOKED UP HAD YOU NOT BROUGHT IT TO MY ATTENTION. AND. YOU BEING HERE WITH ME IS MORE THAN ENOUGH TO BE THANKFUL FOR.”

Sans felt his soul thump hard against his ribcage, his breath lodging itself in his chest. He didn’t deserve it, but it made him so happy to hear those words.

  “t-thanks, papyrus. you being here is great for me, too.”

  _‘especially after losing you so many times. never again. ever.’_

Feeling a need to break away from such dark thoughts, Sans smiled up at his brother and Papyrus smiled down at him in return. As if thinking in unison, both of them flopped on their backs and turned their eyes back to the sky and Sans lifted an arm to point out a collection of stars.

  “they call that one ursa minor, or ‘little dipper’.”

  “WHY? I THINK IT LOOKS LIKE A POT.”

  “really? i think it looks like a bent slipper.”

  “SANS, EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE A SLIPPER TO YOU.”

  “you got me, bro. i guess i can’t…”

  “DON’T YOU DARE.”

Sans shut one eye and shrugged against the ground, his grin stretching wide.

  “ _slip_ anything past you, eh?”

  “NYEEEEH, SAAAANS NO! WHY ARE YOU MY BROTHER!?”

  “beats me. you can’t really _shoes_ your family.”

  “STOP IT! I HATE YOU!”

  “that hurts me, bro. right down to my _sole_.”

  “AAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

He laughed while Papyrus dug the heels of his hands into the sides of his head and yelled at him.

  ‘ _i never thought i’d actually see the stars. i wish you were here…’_

_‘…dad.’_


	2. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is weather?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I listened to for the last half of the chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOZsU8elXrI  
> Again, please don't quote me on the science.

_“g, do we have weather down here?”_

_Gaster huffed in amusement, his gaze immediately focusing on the boy._

_“Already eager for your next lesson, Sans?”_

_Sans crossed his arms, a brow ridge quirking up and his grin tilting higher on one side._

_“didn’t think you’d be one to complain about pursuing knowledge, doc.”_

_He couldn’t help but chuckle that time, his features softening. As time passed, he found himself putting up less and less resistance to the budding affection for the boys. The excursion to Waterfall several weeks ago had relaxed his crumbling defenses. They had stopped being mere experiments. These were his sons, now._

_“I was not complaining. In a sense, we do. It is not as freely dynamic as the surface, but the size of the cave system we reside in enables the development of clouds and condensation, particularly in Snowdin, where the cavern’s ceiling is so high that it is able to generate relatively constant snow with the moisture that it pulls from Waterfall.”_

_“why is each area different? Why don’t they all have snow or magma or water?”_

_At this point, Papyrus had moved away from his crossword puzzle and plopped himself next to Sans, his expression bright and eager. Pleased with his attentive audience, Gaster turned to face them fully, his leg coming up to rest on his opposite knee and his hands folding neatly across his abdomen._

_“The planet is not uniform. No two things are exactly the same unless done intentionally, and those would overwhelmingly likely be made by us monsters or humans.” At the mention of humans, Gaster’s eyelights darkened, but the expression was gone before Sans and Papyrus could take notice. “On the surface, the land is constantly changing and some regions can be vastly different from each other, just like down here. Just because we are not Above doesn’t mean we are not still part of the same dynamic planet. Hotland is an area that has magma exposed, the “blood of the planet” if you recall me telling you. Waterfall is home to a vast network of subterranean rivers and lakes. Do you remember how you felt in the area?”_

_“Wet!”_

_“Precisely, Papyrus. The heavy presence of water leads to excess moisture in the air. This is called humidity. The system of caverns in Waterfall have lower ceilings than Snowdin or even Hotland, so moisture gathers readily. That same moisture travels to Snowdin and as it ascends, it rapidly cools, allowing clouds to form. In fact, the cavern is so large that vegetation has grown in vast quantities, an anomaly that is unique to the area.”_

_He paused in his monologuing, quirking a brow ridge at them curiously._

_“Perhaps…you would like a demonstration?”_

_Sans and Papyrus looked at each other with wide eyes, then turned back to him._

_“you can show us weather?”_

_“A different aspect of it, yes. Much of the weather is a mix of air and water, but some weather is more air. This is what I can demonstrate.”_

_Gaster uncrossed his legs and stood, sending small glances around the lab, assessing._

_“This is not large enough of a space. Follow me.”_

_Sans and Papyrus immediately followed, sticking close to his legs and smiling at each other excitedly. Gaster eventually led them to a large set of double doors and pulled a small card out of his coat pocket, swiping it through a mechanism off to the side. There was a high-pitched ‘ding’ and the doors slid open, revealing a long and tall rectangular room. Scattered across one wall were large monitors with various graphs and text on their screens, their collective hum almost soothing to the brothers. Various equipment was placed across the opposite wall, their purposes unknown._

_Gaster turned to them and held out a hand, stopping them in their tracks._

_“Stay back here. I need space, and I would not with to harm you on accident.”_

_He slowly made his way to the center of the room, his footsteps echoing lightly. Upon reaching the center of the room, he stopped and turned to them, his arms rising to his sides. With the barest hint of command, his magic surrounded him, taking the shape of various hands. To his surprise, the hands were far more skeletal in appearance than the last time he had called on them, each with a hole in their palm. Curious now, he pushed a little more magic out and a glowing violet spear of bone appeared before him, hovering patiently. ‘Fascinating,’ he thought. ‘My attachment has grown strong enough to alter my magic pattern. I will investigate this more later. For now, however…’ Another mental command, and the violet bone split into three smaller pieces, each shard spinning in place slowly._

_“In nature, the circumstances to create this will not be nearly the same. It is a meeting of warm and cold air during a storm that causes instability to form. That air mixes and churns, creating rotation. Under the right conditions, this phenomenon will occur. What I am going to do, however, is simply caused by speed. It will suffice for the demonstration.”_

_The shards of bone settled a short distance in front of him and started spinning in a circle, two of his conjured hands cupping the spinning bones. They started gaining speed, spinning faster and faster until they were a blur. He felt a breeze tickle his face._

_“what’s the phenomenon, g?”_

_Gaster smiled, his eyes glowing violet._

_“A tornado, my boy.”_

_The bones in front of him were now spinning fast enough to be pushing his labcoat back and he stared at it, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. With another nudge of his magic, several more bones joined the spinning mass, spreading out above and below the original three. He egged it on, urging the spinning to get faster. His breathing deepened and his hands flattened out, rising slightly. One more slight push of his magic and he finally began to see results, the bones spinning so quickly that they were no longer visible. Now gaining traction without his aid, the small funnel grew, now twice Gaster’s height. It had a faint purple tinge from the original three bones and he smiled at his creation, looking over to where the boys were standing._

_Sans was staring at the tornado with curiosity and would glance down at his hands periodically. Gaster would need to warn Sans not to attempt this on his own; he knew that look well enough. Papyrus had taken a step forward, his grip loose on his crossword puzzle. He frowned when Papyrus took another step._

_“That’s far enough, Papyrus.”_

_“It’s so pretty!”_

_“Indeed it is, but I believe I told you to stay back. You can see it well enough from where you are.”_

_His eyes widened when a sharp gust pulled the crossword out of the small skeleton’s hand and sucked it into the spinning vortex. Papyrus, being the excitable boy he was, attempted to follow it, which shouldn’t have surprised Gaster in the least. In what felt like slow motion, he saw Sans lurch after Papyrus, the boy’s eyes widening in surprise and fear and saw both of their bodies start getting pulled closer by the tornado. He summoned another violet spear of bone, reacting without thinking. He sliced through the vortex, disrupting its flow and dissipating it and the boys crashed to the ground not even a second later. Sans was clutching Papyrus closely to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut and muttering something indecipherable. A flutter of paper shifted Gaster’s focus to the crossword and he stepped over to where it landed and picked it up, his expression neutral. It crumpled in his hand._

_“I had given you very clear directions, had I not?” His voice was quiet, flat._

_He heard only a whimper in reply._

_“I asked you a question, Papyrus. Did I or did I not give you clear directions?”_

_“Y…yes.”_

_“Yet you did not heed them. My magic has been the cause of many humans’ deaths. I did not have to try. It was as simple as breathing. What do you think it would have done to **you**?”_

_It was silent. He shoved the crumpled paper into his labcoat and closed his eyes._

_“I give my orders with reason. Think about what it would have done to your brother had you gotten hurt, or worse.” He paused, and added in a quieter tone, “Think about what it would have done to me.”_

_He heard tiny hiccups and looked down to see that both Sans and Papyrus were shaking. Sighing softly to himself, he knelt down and picked up their tangled bodies, holding them close to his chest._

_“Let us return to the lab. I believe we have had enough excitement for the day.”_

_The large room was left only with the faint echo of quiet sobs._

* * *

 

Sans reclined on a stack of plywood, one eye cracked open while Papyrus and Undyne competed to see who could be the most helpful, their arms filled with bags of concrete mix.

  “There’s no way you’re gonna beat me, punk! I got way more muscle to move stuff around with!”

  “I HAVE NO MUSCLE AT ALL, UNDYNE. BESIDES, YOUR MUSCLE IS NO MATCH AGAINST MY SHEER COOLNESS! I SHALL WIN THIS CONTEST, MAKE NO ‘BONES’ ABOUT IT! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

Sans sat up instantly, his eyelights nearly twinkling with glee. Papyrus had stopped moving, his mouth turning down exaggeratedly and his eye sockets seeming to shrink when his mind caught up with what he’d just said.

  “i am so…”

  “NO NO.”

  “so. proud of you right now.”

  “NOOOOOOOO!”

  “I swear to Asgore if you start acting like Sans I’m going to suplex you into next week.”

  “’dyne, paps could never be like me. i’m a special brand of lazy.”

  “A special brand of crazy, you mean?”

He shrugged lightly, his eye sockets closing and a lazy grin stretching across his face as he lay back down against the plywood.

  “yeah, sure let’s go with that.”

The hours passed, the sounds of construction soothing him into a light doze. When he heard the first rumble, he passed it off as more background noise. He heard the second rumble ten minutes later and he cracked an eye open, his gaze focusing on the sky. It was obscured with thick gray clouds and he could barely see the sun beginning to set out of the corner of his eye.

  “OH, HELLO FRISK HUMAN! ARE YOU WELL??”

Sans sat up to stare at Frisk as they began gesturing to Papyrus.

  _It’s going to rain soon. We should find somewhere to stay dry._

  “kid. that rumble. is that part of the approaching rain?”

They nodded, turning to face him with a tiny smile.

  _That’s thunder!_

  “can it hurt anyone?”

Frisk shook their head.

  _No, but the lightning can. It’s a really bright flash of light! I hear that when it hits sand, it makes glass._

Sans lowered his gaze as he thought about it.

_‘that must mean it’s incredibly hot. lightning. light. a form of electricity, then? that makes sense.’_

  “alright, thanks kid.”

Nodding, they ran back to one of the completed houses and Sans turned his gaze back to the sky, watching as it continued to grow darker. Quietly, Papyrus sat himself next to him and turned his eye sockets skyward as well, watching how the thick clouds passed over them, a cool breeze pushing away the warm late summer air.

  “IS THIS NORMAL FOR THE SURFACE, SANS?”

He felt more flashes of memory.

  “yeah. the surface has dynamic weather, unlike the underground. pretty cool, huh?”

Another rumble began, louder this time and strong enough for Sans to feel it in his bones.

  “SO WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN?”

He felt a drop of moisture on his hand and he looked down at it, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could smell it now, a strangely sweet and fresh aroma paired with the water he could almost taste in the air around them. He heard a short gasp of surprise and he turned his head to see Papyrus alternating between looking down at his leg and up at the sky.

  “I FELT WATER, BUT I DIDN’T SEE IT FALL. WHERE DID IT COME FROM??”

  “the sky, bro. that’s rain.”

More and more drops began to fall, soon drenching them. The hiss of rain failed to disguise the strangled shriek that came from Undyne and both brothers looked over to see that Undyne was staring at the sky in wonder and unbridled joy. A second more of staring and she was marching over to Papyrus, a wide grin on her face. Before Papyrus could even say anything, she had picked up up and started swinging him around laughing. Sans watched with a raised brow ridge and a tilt of his mouth.

  “THE SURFACE IS FRICKIN AWESOME!!”

  “I-INDEED, UNDYNE. I’M AFRAID I CAN NO LONGER FEEL MY ARMS. CAN YOU PLEASE LET GO??”

The overjoyed fish woman let him go without a fight, the poor skeleton stumbling back but having enough grace to not fall down.

  “I’M GONNA GO GET ALPHYS, THIS IS SO COOL!”

Other monsters were coming out of their homes, not minding getting wet at all. They all were chattering excitedly to each other, laughing and playing and dancing. Papyrus resumed his place next to Sans, his expression fond and content as he watched everyone enjoying themselves. Sans glanced up at him out of the corner of his eye socket.

  “paps, you don’t mind that you’re gettin’ soaked?”

  “DO YOU?”

  “do i what?”

  “MIND THAT YOU ARE GETTING SOAKED?”

  “nah. means i don’t need to shower or wash my clothes later.”

Papyrus frowned down at Sans.

  “YOU ARE STILL GOING TO DO THOSE THINGS. THIS SKY WATER CAN’T BE CLEAN. BESIDES, THERE’S NO SOAP!”

  “details, details.”

Papyrus huffed angrily, but then then began twiddling his thumbs in silence.

  “TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION.”

  “hm?”

  “NO, I DO NOT MIND. HOW COULD I? EVERYONE LOOKS SO HAPPY.”

Sans nodded in agreement. The rain was falling in thick sheets, and there had been the occasional flash of lightning which had elicited some startled shrieks, but it wasn’t enough to deter all the happy monsters. Children were playing, adults were laughing, the elderly were soaking it in, smiles on their faces. Sans personally felt that it was cathartic, feeling the rain soak his clothes and pass through his body. He was being washed clean. Perhaps not absolved of his many failures. But…perhaps one last blank slate. One last chance. He felt emotion start to build in his chest again.

  “BESIDES.”

He looked over at Papyrus. His brother was looking at him, a bright smile on his face.

  “I CAN DO ANYTHING MY LAZYBONES BROTHER CAN DO!”

Laughing softly, Sans closed his eyes and tilted his face to face the sky, feeling the rain against his bones.

  “you sure can, bro. you could probably do it better, too.”

  “OF COURSE I COULD, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AFTER ALL!”

  “absolutely.”

As Sans quickly discovered, the great thing about rain is that no one could see the tears. He disguised his sobs with deep breaths and smiled.

_‘i’ll make this last shot count.’_


	3. Loss Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

_Gaster was excited about something; Sans could see it in the way his shoes landed more heavily on the ground, in the more agitated way he gestured with his hands, in the way the corners of his mouth would twitch upward randomly. He cornered the scientist the thirteenth day into his increasingly excited behavior…if one could call leaning against the only exit of their lab “cornering”. He wasn’t exactly intimidating at exactly five feet tall (at the age of seventeen, no less) and wearing black sweats, a gray t-shirt, and sneakers, but it got Gaster’s attention finding him there._

_“so what’s going on, g? i’ve never seen you this…” he gestured to Gaster’s lanky body, a small smirk tugging at his mouth._

_“animated.”_

_“That one was poor, Sans, and you know it.”_

_Sans shrugged._

_“eh, i had to take it. so really, what’s going on?”_

_Gaster paused, considering carefully. Putting his incredulously low stats and stunted height aside, Sans had grown remarkably over the years, making up for his lack of survivability in sheer academic brilliance. The boy had taken to the sciences like a fish to water, rivalling and even surpassing many of Gaster’s colleagues in only a handful of years. It was incredible what he had managed to learn in so short a time, especially given the development of hypersomnia after his thirteenth birthday. Gaster had done everything in his power to discover the cause behind the sudden onset, but the only thing he could come up with was the discrepancy of his low stats and increased pool of magic as he hit puberty. Normally, the influx of magic would go to growth and development, but his weakened body couldn’t handle the change._

_***_

_In fact, that had led to a dire emergency when one day, Sans had collapsed and begun spasming, excess magic leaking from his mouth. To Gaster’s horror, he saw Sans’s bones begin to crack as magic attempted to push through his body and stimulate growth. He’d had to quickly hold the boy down as he began to thrash and scream in agony. ‘No no no nononoNONO---’ his mind screamed as he lifted Sans’s sweater and saw that his cyan-tinted soul was beginning to echo his bones, fine cracks spreading across the glassy surface like a spiderweb. He kept a forearm braced on Sans’s chest and lifted his other to shake Sans’s head gently. He tried keeping his voice even, but he was panicking inside. The boy’s own magic was tearing him apart._

_“Sans. Sans, I need you to listen to me.” He raised his voice over the screaming, thanking the stars above that Papyrus was on the floor that was home to the Botany & Plant Sciences department, far away from where he could see his brother dying._

_“Sans! I need you to focus your magic. Gather as much as you can.” Sans shrieked as the radius of his left arm began to snap, a mixture of magic and marrow seeping out. Gaster held the boy steady. “Sans I need you to do this or you will die. Please.”_

_He felt a violent tremor under his arm and felt as the boy began pooling his magic. The smell of ozone saturated the room in seconds._

_“Good. I need you to now direct the magic outside, away from you. You can do it, Sans.”_

_It was only years of warfare, of death and destruction far more gruesome than he’d ever allow his sons to see, that kept him from flinching as a torrent of blue mist akin to flame engulfed Sans’s left eye and hand almost spontaneously. It was one more heavy flare of magic before Gaster saw a shadow cover both of their forms and a low growl echoing in the diagnostic lab they were in. Glancing up, his eyes widened in surprise before quietly breathing “the blaster…”_

_He’d had no name for it after creating it, but Sans had immediately dubbed it the “gaster blaster” with an affectionate tone in his voice. Given Gaster’s incredible control and magical strength, the blaster he could summon was large and powerful, easily half the size of his own body but this…Sans’s desperate and pain-addled mind had taken some liberties with the design, the skull draconic and covered in spikes and horns while his was far more simple, almost ram-like with forward curving horns that wrapped around the side of the skull. The size of Sans’s blaster also dwarfed his, easily twice the size, possibly due to Sans’s lack of control, or simply because he had **that much** magic. This could be highly destructive but…it was worth it. He would not lose Sans._

_Concentrating a large quantity of his own magic, he set up a shimmering violet wall, quickly followed by another and another, reinforcing them heavily. If he couldn’t contain the blast with the walls, there was a good chance it would destroy an entire section of the labs and threaten the structural integrity of the upper floors._

_“Alright, Sans. Good. Now, release the magic. All of it.”_

_There was a low-pitched whine that was rapidly gaining volume, and the glow of the gathering magic washed the two figures in blue. The air was suffocating. It was dangerous. It was reckless. Sans was panting shallowly, and Gaster saw that there was a much thicker crack running along the surface of his soul. His mouth set in a firm line._

_It was necessary._

_The air screamed as the magic was released and a blinding blue-white light escaped the jaws of the gargantuan skull. Nearly blind, Gaster could only grunt as he felt the superheated magic almost instantly tear through the first wall. He poured the remnants of the first wall into the second. He clutched Sans tighter to his chest when, after a few seconds, the second wall shattered. Gritting his teeth, he poured the magic of the first and second into the third and added an extra dose of magic, finally starting to feel strain as sweat beaded near his browline._

_‘Just…a little longer.’_

_He felt a crack in the wall. Another. Another. His eyes narrowed as he took in Sans’s pained expression, the agonized wheezes. He felt so light in his arms… he frowned and felt the magic of the blast nearly burning his back._

_‘Such incredible power. Had his constitution been higher…’_

_A large spiderweb of cracks appeared in the center of the wall and he shuddered as he fought against the blast. A few more seconds and he wouldn’t be able to hold on anymore…He closed his eyes, waiting._

_Three._

_Two.._

_One…_

_The wall shattered at the same time that the blaster finally dissipated and Gaster slumped slightly, his breaths slightly labored. He blinked blearily and looked down at Sans’s soul. Still cracked. But alive. Calm. Sans whimpered once, his small body attempting to curl into Gaster. He gently stroked the boy’s skull, relief washing through him._

_“You did well, Sans. I am proud of you.”_

_Healing wasn’t his forte, but he gathered magic in his fingertips, both them and his eyes glowing violet. Minutes were spent quietly healing Sans’s wounds until Gaster had deemed his condition stable and climbed to his feet, the boy in his arms. He looked down at the now-peaceful face and huffed to himself. No doubt the boy would be hungry when he woke. A regimen would need to be constructed to keep Sans’s magic to an acceptable level. This would not happen again._

_***_

_He shook his head of the memory and took in the sight of Sans patiently waiting for an answer. Sans could know, he’d decided. The boy---young adult, he corrected himself---deserved to be part of history. It was his theories and heavy delving into quantum mechanics that had sparked Gaster’s interest, after all._

_“I believe I have figured out a solution to our entrapment in the Underground.”_

_That immediately had Sans’s interest._

_“what? wait start at the beginning, g. where’d this come from?”_

_A very tiny part in the back of Gaster’s mind always marveled at how Sans had a deep voice that could have easily suited a monster twice his size._

_“I have been studying your theories, Sans, and they have merit. If we could apply these concepts to a physical manifestation, we might make a massive breakthrough.”_

_Sans was silent for a moment, his eyesockets widening marginally._

_“g…are you talking about making a time travel machine? my work is incomplete, though! i still haven’t figured out a way to get past the grandfather paradox or, or any reliable way to ensure that we stay within our own timeline. doing it wrong could create countless parallel universes as we attempt to fix our own.”_

_“Well, who is to say those universes don’t already exist, Sans?”_

_“what do you mean?”_

_“You’ve heard of Schrodinger, yes?”_

_“yeah, his experiment with the cat?”_

_“Precisely. Apply that concept to anything. Everything. If there is such a thing as parallel universes, then our many decisions and indecision has spawned many countless threads, where one thing has changed or not changed. So what would be the harm if we added a few more in error?”_

_“you got a point, but that’s risky thinking, doc. besides, we want to affect our timeline, not a parallel one. what’s the point of sending a traveler if we’re not the ones going free?”_

_Gaster made a dismissive gesture with his free hand._

_“Progress is usually accompanied by risk. Wouldn’t you rather a version of us go free than no version at all?”_

_Sans narrowed his eyesockets and his mouth tilted downwards._

_“who’s to say there isn’t already a version of us that’s free?”_

_The scientist sighed and crossed his arms, the documents he’d been carrying held under his arm._

_“Perhaps you are right. But. What if I said I could help you complete and test your work? You would no longer work alone on your projects; you’d have me and an entire team of dedicated physicists on your side. What do you say?”_

_Sans was quiet for a moment as he took in the eager, almost frenzied light in Gaster’s eyes. This was important to him for some reason. It would really make him happy to be able to finish his work, but…_

_“why is this so important to you, gaster? what’s in it for you?”_

_Gaster sighed again and turned around, heading back to his desk before sitting quietly, his posture hunching slightly as he settled his elbows on his knees and brought his interlocked fingers up to cover his mouth in a thoughtful pose._

_“This is not for me, Sans. It’s for you.”_

_Confused, Sans followed him over and leaned against the desk, his hands leaning back to grip the edge._

_“what are you talking about?”_

_Gaster’s eyelights locked onto Sans, his expression tired._

_“I’m already old, Sans. My life has been filled with war and death and loneliness. I still have life in me, quite a bit of it, but the time for serving only myself has passed. Everything I do now is for the young monsters, the new generation. In a more selfish sense, it is for you and Papyrus. I want the two of you to experience the joy of the surface. The stars, the weather, the endless miles of forest and sea. Our planet is so much larger than just this measly cavern. I want the two of you to see it, to be happy.”_

_He wanted them to be happy? He had noticed that Gaster had grown increasingly warm over the years, giving Papyrus the attention he needed, never experimenting on the younger skeleton like he had with him. Good, he thought. Papyrus was his world. He didn’t need to ever know suffering. He’d do anything to keep it that way. He gave Gaster a crooked smirk, pushing himself off the desk._

_“alright, g. let’s do this. two minds are better than one, right?”_

_Gaster smiled._

_“Absolutely.”_

_The months passed quickly, their combined efforts leading to multiple breakthroughs in Sans’s theories. Roughly seven months into their work, a large machine was constructed, housed in a large laboratory that was connected to an observation room. The two of them stood in front of their team, sending small smiles to each other as they took in the sight of the fruits of their labor. Congratulations were passed around, a bottle of champagne shared, and they all went their separate ways home with promises that the first trial would begin tomorrow._

_As Sans entered the lab that was their home, he heard a loud cry of ‘BROTHER!’ before having the air knocked out of him. He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Papyrus. The younger boy was already taller than him at 5’3”. If he had bothered to care more, Sans would have been jealous that Papyrus was already taller than him despite being only thirteen._

_“HOW WAS WORK?”_

_He had long grown used to the incredible energy his brother put off and chuckled._

_“we did it, paps. the machine is ready and will begin testing tomorrow.”_

_“CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER! I KNEW YOU AND DAD COULD DO IT! YOU ARE BOTH INCREDIBLY SMART AND DETERMINED!”_

_Old memories of the experiments he underwent as a child flashed in his head. Syringes. Red fluid that burned as it coursed through his body. Screams. He fought them down. Gaster wasn’t that man anymore. He wasn’t that frightened babybones anymore._

_“i think stubborn is a better word.”_

_“BUT THAT SOUNDS SO NEGATIVE!”_

_“heh. it’s better than ‘determined’, bro. trust me.”_

_“HMM. WELL IF YOU INSIST!”_

_Tomorrow would change everything, Sans thought. He couldn’t wait._

_“SANS, IT’S ALREADY LATE. YOU SHOULD COME TO BED! MY BEDTIME STORY WILL NOT WAIT!”_

_He quirked a browridge at the exclamation._

_“paps, aren’t you gettin’ a little old for bedtime stories?”_

_“NONSENSE! I WILL NEVER BE TOO OLD FOR A STORY!” Papyrus shouted from their shared room._

_The older brother huffed in amusement and began walking to their room._

_“alright paps, whatever you say.”_

_As Sans closed his eyes, he felt hope bloom in his chest for what the following day would bring. He fell asleep with a smile on his face._

_***_

_“Alright, Sans. Are we ready?”_

_“good to go, g.” he responded with a thumbs up through the intercom in the observation room._

_Gaster was striding briskly around the room, speaking into a recorder clipped onto the lapel of his lab coat. He adjusted various dials, calibrating them to fix onto a time before the barrier was erected. Sans was staring down at the monitors on the console, tracking the various equations and frequencies as Gaster began to power on the machine. The man looked at a screen with a small frown on his face._

_“Dark, darker, yet darker. The darkness keeps growing. Photon readings negative.” He looked up at the two closest teammates and gestured for them to come over. “What do you two think?” They paused when they heard a slight crackle. All the occupants in the room turned to face the machine, completely silent._

_“doc, something’s wrong. these readings are off the charts. try adjusting some of the alpha settings.”_

(Song suggestion: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CzcOcBb_ms)

_As Gaster began to move to the neighboring console, he felt a rumble begin to pass through him and he glanced over at the machine in alarm as he noticed something like a jagged tear in the air near it._

_“What’s going on!?” one of the scientists, a monster even taller than Gaster and lanky in frame, exclaimed. Sans’s voice echoed in the lab through the speaker._

_“g, you gotta shut it down. this is going all kinds of sideways. it’s already beginning to destabilize.”_

_Gaster was already shaking his head before Sans finished._

_“No, Sans. I can fix this.”_

_“don’t be stubborn on this one. full destabilization of the machine could destroy this room, the lab, hell, maybe even the entire underground. it’s not worth the risk.”_

_“I have to try.”_

_As Gaster was furiously working to correct whatever was wrong, the rumble increased and from his peripheral vision, he could see that a gaping void was opening near where the machine was, crackling arcs of purple-black lightning escaping it. The other physicists were screaming, backing away from it, looking to Gaster for guidance with panic in their eyes. Suddenly, a tremor shook the room and the alarms kicked in, bathing the room in red._

_“gaster, shut it down!”_

_The tear had grown and was gaining a gravitational pull. Looking up at Sans with a neutral expression, Gaster immediately created a wall of bone between him and the tear and began working on the containment protocols. It was too late to stop the damage, too late for him, but at the very least, he could protect the rest of the labs. His sons. When Sans noticed what he was doing, he started running towards the door that connected the observation room and the lab, but Gaster sealed it with his magic, preventing entry. The young skeleton pounded at the glass with his fist, his expression angry and panicked._

_“what are you doing?! let me help you!”_

_“You know you can’t help me, Sans. Let me do this last thing. My stubbornness will not result in your death, as well.”_

_“no!”_

_One by one, the screaming scientists were pulled into the growing void, and the floor near the machine was beginning to crack. Gaster was pressed against his constructed wall, the increasing gravitational pull almost overwhelming, the shaking of the room making his bones rattle. He could hear Sans screaming inside the observation room, could hear attack after attack being thrown at the thick glass to no avail. He felt his wall beginning to give. Thirteen more seconds before the rift could no longer be contained. Gaster grit his teeth and continued typing commands. He heard a scream of his name and looked up as he entered the final command and hit ‘enter’. He made a few simple hand signs and smiled ruefully as his wall finally gave way, falling into the void as it collapsed._

_Sans stared with wide eyes at where Gaster and his colleagues had once stood, the area now deathly silent. Numbly, he tried the door again, now finding it unlocked. Translucent cyan tears gathered near the corners of his eyesockets and he sank to his knees near the machine, the last image he had of his creator burned into his mind. He howled in anguish to the empty room, the sound echoing. The scene repeated in his head like a broken record, giving him no chance to breathe, to think._

_Gaster smiled wanly at him, his hands lifting in gestures that he easily understood._

**_L-I-V-E._ **

* * *

 

_He had quietly gone back to their home lab after his tears were spent and his throat was raw, finding Papyrus already there eating a bowl of cereal. He focused on Sans instantly, a smile lighting his features._

_“THERE YOU ARE, BROTHER! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU.”_

_“…sorry, pap. didn’t mean to keep you waiting. look, i…i don’t know how to say this, but…”_

_The younger skeleton frowned._

_“WHAT IS WRONG?”_

_“…gaster’s gone.”_

_There was a brief pause._

_“WHO?”_

_Sans looked up at Papyrus, his brows furrowed._

_“what do you mean, ‘who’? dr. gaster.”_

_“I’M SORRY SANS, BUT I DON’T THINK I HAVE MET THIS DR. GASTER YET. IS HE A FRIEND OF YOURS?”_

_He didn’t remember. Stars above, he didn’t remember. If Papyrus didn’t remember, who else didn’t? What had happened? And why did he still remember? He felt a fresh wave of despair wash through him, tears gathering quickly. He shut his eyes against it. Papyrus didn’t need to see him like this. He wouldn’t understand, anyway. The lie came quickly, slipping past the lump in his throat._

_“yeah. he was. i guess he just didn’t wanna stay anymore. he went back home, wherever that happens to be. we weren’t exactly…close. but i liked him.”_

_“OH, I SEE. WELL, I HOPE HE IS HAPPY, WHEREVER HE IS GOING!”_

_Sans swallowed his sob._

_“yeah, me too.”_

_He shuffled past Papyrus, calling out a dull goodnight and citing fatigue (which wasn’t inaccurate), heading to the room that Gaster had stayed in. The door was typically locked, keyed to his soul signature, but it slid open easily when he got near it. The room was economical, a simple bed and dresser making up its contents with an adjoining closet that was open to show carefully folded slacks and turtlenecks, with a single deep burgundy turtleneck shoved in a corner. Sans wondered why he never wore it. Gently, he shut the door of the closet and curled up on the bed, the smell of the sheets an odd mix of musty and sterile, as if they had been untouched for a long time. His eyes closed heavily, but not before a few stray tears escaped._

_‘i’m sorry, gaster.’_

_For what, he didn’t know. For not trying harder to get inside? For not putting his foot down? For not thinking of having the containment protocols himself? Either way, guilt churned inside him, feeling as if he had failed somehow. As he started drifting in an out of consciousness, he wondered if he’d have nightmares. It certainly wouldn’t surprise him. He imagined in his head that Gaster stood there in the blackness, holding out his hand for Sans to take. Quietly, Sans took it, a thousand apologies on the tip of his tongue, but none came._

_His sleep was dreamless._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting to be too massive, so I split the memory and the 'present time'. I took some liberties with Entry Number Seventeen as well, making it so that it could fit with what was going on.
> 
> You may have noticed that I was using the number 13 a lot. I mainly used it for the purpose of "upheaval" and "destruction of the self", but it has other nifty little connotations as well. Take a look: numerology-thenumbersandtheirmeanings.blogspot.com/2011/05/number-13.html?m=1


	4. Loss Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lost everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind the music suggestion is only a suggestion. This song has always managed to hit me extra hard because of history performing it.  
> I really don't know how to feel about this one.

Sans hadn’t been sure what to make of the small human the first time he met them. He watched as they walked away from him, a happy smile on their face. They…seemed okay. Not as bad as the stories said. He watched as they gently fed Undyne water, his soul warming at the gesture. Undyne had been actively trying to kill them and yet they turned around and helped when any other sane monster or human would have run. It was like the kid was doing their best to be friendly and helpful, completely dedicated to making friends and not raising a fist. When Sans met them in the judgement hall, he stared them down, noting how they seemed…frightened of him, even moreso than when he had told them how lucky they were that the lady behind the door had made him promise not to hurt a human. When he let them past, he saw that their shivering hadn’t stopped yet and that their smile was wobbly. Whoops.

When news had come back of Asgore dying, he had shut his eyes in resignation. It was inevitable, he supposed. The kid just wanted to go home, no matter how many friends they had made. When he lay in bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, wondering if he was really okay with spending the rest of his life in the Underground, if anyone was okay with that. He didn’t remember closing his eyes. When they opened again, he felt…oddly dizzy. Like something was off. When he heard his brother yelling at him about puzzles in a way that seemed awfully familiar, he brushed it off.

Quietly he made his way to the door of the Ruins, wondering what exactly he should tell the woman behind the door. Open the conversation with another joke, maybe? She’d be happy the kid was free, at least. As the door appeared in the horizon, he felt his imaginary guts clench in apprehension. What was there to be afraid of? Surely, the lady would be alright living in the Ruins forever. His eyesockets narrowed as he got closer before widening them. The door was open…and the kid was standing there.

Their eyes were wide, tear-filled, their tiny body shaking violently. Before he could even say anything, the kid started sobbing, backing away from him and trying to sign something but failing.

   “kid, wha-”

That’s when he saw it. Smelled it. Tasted it, bitter in his mouth.

Dust.

The kid was covered in dust.

_I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, she wouldn’t stop, and I was getting so hurt, and I couldn’t stop either or she would have killed me. I can’t. I can’t let this happen! She doesn’t deserve this!_

   “kid, hold on, what are you-”

Then he blinked and he was back in bed, his head spinning. What had just happened? He sat up in bed slowly, trying to will the dizziness away.

   “SANS, YOU BETTER BE AWAKE; WE HAVE PUZZLES TO CALIBRATE AND HUMANS TO CAPTURE!”

Sans froze. He’d heard those words before. He’d heard them half an hour ago. That…that couldn’t be possible. But he could’ve sworn he had. He slipped out of bed, staring down at his hands and seeing an echo.

He’d done this already. Feeling increasingly paranoid, he felt a surge of energy course through him and he tore the door open, bolting down the stairs and running out the door with Papyrus’s voice calling out to him in confusion. His magic was roiling inside of him in agitation and sweat beaded on his skull. His fingers tingled. His soul fluttered. He felt something like dread coiling inside of him. Upon reaching the door to the Ruins, he moved to the treeline, doing his best to calm his breathing. For what seemed like hours, he waited for the door to open and went rigid when the stone doors began to move. Out came the kid, smiling and dust-free. He watched as they walked past his hiding place, watched as they picked up the broken stick with a fond smile on their face. He approached them from behind, caution keeping his steps slow and silent. With hardly any effort, he pulled up the memory of how he greeted the kid the first time and recited it, plastering a grin on his face. They shook his hand, smiling widely.

He followed his memories, repeating them as closely as he could. The kid’s movements were different, the order in which they spoke to monsters jumbled, but they still followed the same path. It was almost as soon as he let them out of his sight that disaster struck. He heard the distressed cry of a snowdrake and the chatter of an icecap and moved over to them, a sinking feeling in his chest.

   “They fell! They fell! I saw them lean over too far and down they went!”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and when his ribcage was back in its original position he was outside Snowdin in his hiding place where he’d been watching the kid. They were shaking, feeling along their arms and neck, patting down their chest and looking down at their feet. They looked terrified. It was then that Sans realized.

It was the kid. The kid was the one that was…in essence…rewinding time.

Resetting.

Sans narrowed his eyes as he watched the kid move along, their path keeping away from any edges. During this ‘reset’, the kid killed Undyne. Their face had been twisted in anger and sadness and…something disturbingly like curiosity. Some monsters had gone missing with barely a whisper. The lady behind the door, Queen Toriel, he’d discovered, had tried to fix things and upon discovering the death of Undyne, had retired back to the Ruins quietly. He sighed to himself and rubbed his hand across his face, his eyes shutting. He felt a twist in his gut and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his room. He felt himself die a little inside. So this was how it was going to be?

His expression was flat as he watched the kid from the treeline again, their expression contemplative. They were going to see what else to do this time. He could see the gears turning in their little head. He approached them again and repeated his old words. They didn’t seem as excited to see him this time.

(Song suggestion: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWgjwTc3PUw)

As the resets began to pile up, he noticed the kid becoming more and more bored, their gaze focusing on him with a calculating glint in their eye. It was the first time he noticed their eye flash red. Concern flooded him at the sight. That couldn’t be normal. He approached them like all the other times before, but they turned around to face him before he could reach them. A nervous flutter sat where his stomach would be, and a cold sweat gathered on his skull and the back of his neck. He held out his hand for the kid to take and they stared at it silently before ignoring it and moving away from him. That was…different. So the kid was going to reject him now? What else were they going to do?

Sans watched their retreating back, frowning as he studied them. Their eyes had seemed…hazy. And there was that disturbing red glint that he could see in their half-mast eyes. The more he focused on them, the more he saw the fine layer of gray that stuck to them like a shroud. His eyes flicked down to their hand, gritting his teeth at the dust sticking to the cheap plastic knife clutched in their hand. Chances were they’d killed everyone in the Ruins.

Grudgingly, Sans allowed the initial meeting of the kid and his brother, his magic writhing inside him as he noticed the kid’s dull eyes not moving from Papyrus. Without warning, he felt a wave of drowsiness and a large part of him felt panic. No, he couldn’t sleep! This was the worst possible time for his ridiculous affliction to hit him! He dove behind his station after they left, looking for anything to eat to keep his energy up, but only found a single ketchup packet and an empty jar of relish. Tearing the packet open with his teeth, Sans quickly downed the contents before dashing back around to attempt to catch up with Papyrus again.

He didn’t make it.

Another wave of drowsiness washed over him and Sans held out a hand to brace against a large pine, his movements becoming sluggish. He sank against the tree, his jacket riding up slightly to bunch under his arm and he made an effort to raise his head in the direction Papyrus and the kid had gone. He wanted to follow them. He had to. He didn’t trust that look on the kid’s face. His mind screamed at him to get up, to go find his brother and keep him close. In his mind’s eye, that’s precisely what he did, scrambling to his feet and taking a shortcut directly to Paps. His brother was smiling at him.

“pap…yrus…” he breathed quietly as his eyes slid shut.

Upon waking up, Sans wondered is perhaps the kid had reset, because it hardly seemed like any time had passed...nothing more than an hour (thirty-seven minutes, his mind helpfully supplied) at best. But if the kid hadn’t reset, then that meant…quickly calculating the elapsed time versus the path, his magic swirled around him and forcefully pulled him through a spacetime tear to where he knew the kid and his brother would be.

They were standing a short distance apart as they usually were during their fight, but Papyrus was smiling, his arms wide open as he offered them his friendship. Good, Sans sighed to himself. Maybe he was wrong, maybe—his eyelights zeroed in on the way his brother’s arms shook, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He was…afraid. With a large smile that didn’t reach the kid’s eyes, they took quick steps toward Papyrus, their arms raising as if to hug him back. Sighing in something like relief, Papyrus sank to a knee, his expression gentle and caring. It didn’t matter how fast Sans was. He couldn’t make it in time when he saw the cruel twist to the kid’s mouth and the wrist holding the knife twisting so that it faced Papyrus.

_*SLASH*_

He saw Papyrus freeze, saw his arms twitch once before finding the strength to still wrap around the child, pulling them close. Sans felt himself begin to tremble as he saw Papyrus’s body dissolve, leaving his skull sitting on the pile of dust. The skull had an expression of pain and something resembling regret on its face.

   “ALAS, POOR PAPYRUS! WELL, AT LEAST I STILL HAVE MY HEAD!”

His hands clenched. The skull continued to talk as the child looked on curiously.

   “W-WELL, THAT’S NOT WHAT I EXPECTED…BUT…ST…STILL!”

This wasn’t real, he told himself. His brother wasn’t a pile of dust and a skull. No.

   “I BELIEVE IN YOU! YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER! EVEN IF YOU DON’T THINK SO!”

How could he still have so much blind faith? It wasn’t fair, Sans cried to himself. It wasn’t fair.

   “I…I PROMISE…”

He saw the skull’s eyes close and felt rage begin to wrap around his soul in a vice when he saw the kid place their foot on the skull and apply pressure, the bones cracking and splitting apart into dust. The layer of dust around them was heavy now, given how close they had been when Papyrus…he shook his head.

Quietly, he watched them move away from the pile of dust, their expression still blank. The fury swelled and bashed against the sides of his ribcage when he saw that the child had started crying, in spite of their lack of expression. How dare they? How dare they cry when they had…they had…he shut his eyes tightly, the anger being overtaken with grief.

Slowly, with steps that were uneven and heavy, he made his way to where his brother was. As he sank down near the pile, he compared the feeling in his chest to the feeling he’d had with all the other deaths he’d experienced. Undyne. Mettaton. Toriel. Asgore.

…Gaster.

He’d felt anger when his friends had died. Some degree of sadness. He remembered feeling raw agony and helplessness when Gaster had been pulled into that black tear. He remembered being despondent for months. He remembered how he had fallen into himself, unintentionally pulling himself away from Papyrus, his gestures of affection becoming more and more rare. He remembered how it had taken finding Papyrus sobbing in their new home in Snowdin, his small shaky voice explaining that no one seemed to like him and was being picked on, for him to feel emotion again, anger and protectiveness rising inside him like a great creature in a dark ocean.

This was different.

This was like he was suffocating, cold washing through every inch of his bones. Black spots appeared in his vision and iridescent blue splotches on the pile of dust told him that he was crying. Vaguely, he could hear the rattle of his violently shaking bones, the harshness of his breath. With shaking hands, he reached into the pile, pushing away the other articles of clothing and gathering a dusty red scarf in his arms. The numbness would fade any second now, something in the back of his brain warned him. Part of him was terrified of feeling again. He didn’t want to. It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt so much.

It was as he held the scarf up to his chest, just below his skull, that he felt something inside snap. He heard a loud howl, like a wounded animal, and realized that it was him. His head had been thrown upwards towards the sky, his spine arched back, the scarf clutched to his chest like a lifeline. When the howl ended, he felt his body pitch forward, curling in up on itself as the howl picked up again.

He was oddly blind, not that he cared. Cries of Papyrus’s name were reaching him, but he felt so…detached from it, sitting in his dark suffocating bubble. It was unknown amount of time that passed before he felt himself move again, pain registering in his throat from the screaming. Passing through the spacetime tears had never felt so easy. A pot that had once been for spaghetti noodles was grabbed and in another instant, he was standing in front of his brother, his eyes empty. Wordlessly, he gathered as much of the dust as he could and picked up the clothes with his magic, then ported back to their house, all the items in tow.

It felt like something of a funeral as Sans dragged himself up the stairs and opened the door to his brother’s room. He wasn’t wrong, he supposed faintly. This was a funeral. Gingerly, he placed the clothing near the foot of the pristinely made racecar bed and his eyelights dragged across the room, trying to figure out where his brother would like to be. What had he loved the most? Everything, his mind supplied. Papyrus had loved everything. And so he spread the dust across the bed, the action figures, the computer, his clothes, smeared some on the pirate flag and bookcase, sprinkled some on the box of bones. He was left with a handful the size of a gold coin and looked around the room, wondering what else he could put it on when his hand clenched, hearing the slight ‘poff’ as the dust compressed against the bones of his hand.

Himself.

Yes. That would work.

Papyrus had loved him, too, right?

Slowly, reverently, Sans rubbed the remaining bit of dust between his hands, over and under and inbetween his bones until he couldn’t see it anymore. There, he thought. Now he could stay with him forever. Almost as reverently, Sans closed the door, closing his eyes as it clicked shut with finality. Of course, at the time he hadn’t known how many times he was going to do this and how dead he would eventually become to the traumatic experiences, but in that moment, he felt something surge inside of him, making his eye flare blue.

Rage. Retribution.

They were killing everyone this time. They had killed his brother.

He would meet them, as he always had, and this time he would stop them.

   “ ** _y o u r e  g o n n a  h a v e  a  b a d  t i m e , k i d._** ”


	5. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can be alternately named "How to goad Papyrus into being angry"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When he becomes angry, this was my song of choice https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ohXZCdNgtk  
> Perhaps not emotionally correct, but something I still enjoyed writing to.

[4 YEARS AGO]

 

Undyne stared down at the excitable sack of bones standing in front of her door.

   “What’s up, short stuff?”

The skeleton huffed indignantly.

   “I BEG YOUR PARDON, BUT I AM NOT SHORT! YOU JUST HAPPEN TO BE EXCEPTIONALLY TALL, CAPTAIN UNDYNE!”

He—that voice was definitely masculine—put his hands on his hips, leaning up slightly.

   “BESIDES, YOU ARE NOT THAT MUCH TALLER! PERHAPS FIVE OR SIX INCHES AT MOST?”

Undyne raised a brow, unimpressed.

   “You’re still short. Now what did you need? I got some training I need to do.”

At the word ‘training’, the skeleton lit up, his hands clasping together and bouncing on the balls of his feet. She could practically see the sparkles in those dark sockets of his.

   “TRAINING?? WOULD I BE ABLE TO COME ALONG TOO!? I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THE KIND OF TRAINING THE GREAT CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD DOES!”

She crossed her arms, looking him over. She couldn’t even tell how strong he was, given his marked lack of muscles or…anything else, really. Her first instinct said ‘weak’, because he was so skinny, his orange sweater hugging a lean torso, and his jeans fitting somewhat loosely over his legs. He had potential though. His shoulders were broad, a hint of potential. And he certainly had energy from what she could see.

   “You a potential recruit or somethin’?”

   “YES! IT IS ONE OF MY DREAMS TO BECOME A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!” he said with a beam.

With a grunt of acknowledgement, she looked him over again.

   “Yeah, I guess you can come along. I can see what you’re made of, too.”

He bounced on his heels again, letting out a short, but loud ‘NYEH!’, causing Undyne to wince.

   “Yeah, yeah, cool it. What’s your name, punk?”

   “IT’S PAPYRUS, MA’AM!”

She wrinkled her nose.

   “I’m not that old!” she snapped. Papyrus’s eyesockets widened and he held up his hands in apology. “Don’t call me that again. Eugh, gross.”

   “OF COURSE, CAPTAIN.”

* * *

She beat him into the ground almost immediately. He was observant, she could tell. He watched her movements like a hawk, but he didn’t have the reflexes or the speed to keep up with her. That could be worked on, though, she said to herself. He had potential. With a soft sigh, she leaned down and picked up the limp skeleton, blinking in surprise as she did. She had expected him to be lighter, being nothing but bone, but no. He wasn’t heavy by any means, still light as a feather, in fact, but there was something that gave him weight. His magic, maybe? The body in her arms shifted slightly.

   “I CAN…STILL MOVE…”

Undyne snorted skeptically.

   “I doubt that, runt. You dropped like a rock.”

He shifted again.

   “NO, I….I CAN KEEP GOING…”

   “No you can’t, so just stop. I’m gonna take you home. You got family to go home to?”

Papyrus said nothing for a moment.

   “MY…BROTHER.”

   “Your brother got a name?”

   “…SANS.”

He looked ready to pass out. Oops, maybe Undyne had hit him too many times.

   “Where do you live, Papyrus?”

   “SNOWDIN.”

She began walking as he mumbled directions to her, his words beginning to slur as he faded into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Undyne knocked on the door with her leather-clad foot, not wanting to disturb the skeleton in her arms. The door opened almost immediately and she blinked when she saw no one there. A flash of white caught her attention and she tilted her head down, down, down until she was met with the sight of a very short skeleton holding the handle of the door in a death grip. Geez, he had to be barely five feet tall. He looked the complete opposite of his brother, dressed super casually in a white turtleneck, loose blue jacket (that had a nasty grease stain down the left side), black basketball shorts and socks with slippers.

   “…papyrus?” he looked up at Undyne, his eyelights (why didn’t Papyrus have those, Undyne wondered) flicking between her face and the peaceful one of his brother, tucked into her shoulder. “what happened to my bro?” he demanded with a hint of a growl, his eyesockets narrowed in her direction.

   “He wanted to train with me. He’s still kind of green and got his ass handed to him. He gave a good effort, though.”

Sans huffed a little, his expression softening as he looked at his brother.

   “heh, that’s my bro. c’mon, bring ‘im inside and i’ll get ya a coffee or somethin’. ya seem a li’l _blue_ around the gills.”

Stars above, his voice was the opposite of his brother’s too, quiet and deep. There was a strange sort of inflection to it, like an accent of sorts. It flowed like molasses in contrast to Papyrus’s crisp and clear manner of speaking.

She stared at her blue skin, then back at him as he turned around and walked further into the house.

   “Wait, but my skin is already blue. What do you…”

And then he turned around and gave her a cheeky smile. He was joking with her. Badly.

   “You little shit.”

* * *

 

She leaned against the wall as she watched Sans perch on the edge of his brother’s bed, adjusting the covers around Papyrus’s body. He was highly protective of his brother, she noted. His body language was practically screaming it. She blinked when he turned his head to face her, his expression lazy.

   “thanks for bringin’ ‘im home, captain.”

The fish woman shrugged, the fabric of her black tank top rubbing against the wall behind her with a soft sound.

   “Eh, it’s my job. And. Well. It was kind of my fault. Prolly shoulda gone easier on him.”

Sans shook his head.

   “nah, he woulda been able to tell and call ya out on it. he’s good at that kinda thing.”

He got up, and with one last look at his brother, he moved toward the door, gesturing for her to follow.

   “c’mon, the coffee should be done. let’s let the poor guy sleep.”

* * *

 

Conversation was frustrating down in the living room. Any personal questions were met with evasive answers and shitty jokes, but Sans was quick to lay praises on Papyrus, letting Undyne know on no uncertain terms just how “cool” his brother was. In fact, most of the conversation was about the sleeping skeleton upstairs, little stories about how Papyrus was faster than all the other kids his age, about how he was teased when one of his front teeth fell out and he’d gone crying to Sans, about how talented he was at solving puzzles, about how he’d shot up like a weed when he was still very young, leaving Sans in the dust.

   “will ya keep trainin’ ‘im?”

Undyne set down her mug, crossing her arms.

   “He’s gotta beef up first if he even stands a chance at getting in the guard. He’s too scrawny right now for me to even consider him.”

   “He is pretty _bony_ , huh.”

She narrowed her eyes at the joke, refusing to take the bait.

   “Yeah, he is. I’ll help him get stronger. After that, he’s gotta try out for real.”

   “that’s all we can ask for, _tibia_ honest.”

   “Oh come on!!” She stood and stomped down on their coffee table, breaking it in half. She stared down at where her foot was resting, one large sliver of wood resting across the top of her boot and the mug Sans had given her pooling the last dregs of coffee around her heel.

Shit.

   “Uh…oops?”

Sans didn’t react, instead lifting his hand and gathering the pieces together with his magic, moving them off to the side against a wall.

   “You uh…seem really calm about that. I’m not about to get shanked, am I?”

He shrugged.

   “nah. paps jumps out our window at least once every two weeks or more, depending on how much i tease ‘im.”

   “The window?” She stared at it, wrinkling her brow as she took in its perfectly un-broken surface.

   “it’s the _clearest_ exit.”

A vein ticked in her forehead.

   “You do this on purpose, don’t you?”

   “guess you can _see right through me_ , eh?”

With a glare leveled in his direction, she walked toward the door.

   “Nope, not dealing with it. Tell that nerd to meet me at my house the day after tomorrow!”

She ignored his chuckle behind her.

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, she studied both of them, picked up on their quirks and their relationship with each other. As much as Papyrus complained about how lazy Sans was (he really did seem that way and it drove Undyne crazy), he genuinely seemed to care about his shorter (and older? She hadn’t been expecting that) sibling. She also picked up how quickly Papyrus was improving. It wasn’t anything mind-bogglingly amazing, but it was still far more than she had anticipated. His bone attacks were a fair counter to her spears, both able to work at close and long range, and he was getting better at countering them, but he was still terrible at avoiding surprise hits from her limbs.

It was starting to chafe at her patience that she could practically see the potential in Papyrus but he kept holding back. He’d hesitate at the last second and Undyne would smash him into the ground, cracking the stone beneath him. She’d never personally trained someone before and her only real sparring partner had been King Asgore. Papyrus reminded her of him, actually. They were both too soft. But Asgore at least had the mind to push an advantage until his opponent could no longer fight back or was able to recover and get back on equal footing. She frowned at the end of one of their training sessions, downing a glass of water in a couple of gulps while she rested against a short outcropping of rock along the wall of their training room.

   “You need to stop hesitating, Papyrus.”

Papyrus wrung his hands in an uncharacteristic fit of nerves.

   “BUT…WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY HURT YOU?”

   “That’d mean you did something right, you doofus!”

   “I…I CAN TRY?”

   “Good.” she said with a firm nod.

* * *

 

He didn’t try. Or maybe he did and the effort was just so negligible that she didn’t notice. Several times when she was alone in her house, she’d yank on her ponytail in frustration and end up destroying her table or other various pieces of furniture, then play angry music on the piano. How was she supposed to get past that block of his?

It came to her much later, 11 months into their training.  His limits had improved drastically, but he had yet to win a fight against her, his block allowing her to bring him down without too much effort. She stood over him, watching as he struggled to rise from his position on the ground. They’d been at a stalemate for a good forty minutes until he’d slipped, his arm going wide in a miscalculated move. It hadn’t taken much for Undyne to reduce him to a useless pile of bones on the floor. He flopped back down again, the front of his skull pressing down into the hard stone and his back rising and falling as he took in large breaths.

   “Come on, Papyrus. Get up.”

   “UNDYNE, PLEASE. I’M SO TIRED.”

The fish woman scoffed, crossing her muscled arms across her chest.

   “If this is all you can handle, you can go back home to your pathetic brother.”

She saw Papyrus’s right fist clench. Interesting. She’d never brought Sans into her “pep talks” before. She wasn’t sure why she had now, but this was a different reaction and she was dedicated to pursuing the path it took.

   “HE IS NOT PATHETIC.”

This was an opening, she realized. She’d never seen him angry before. Irritated, yes. Frustrated, definitely. Angry, no. How far could she go until he snapped?

   “Oh please.” she said with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve never seen a more pathetic monster in my life. He slouches, he’s lazy, he lacks initiative, and he smells like grease and ketchup. If not for him talking, I’d think he was about to Fall.”

She didn’t hate Sans, and he wasn’t quite as bad as she made it out to be, but he _was_ those things, and putting them all together in one statement just made it sting more.

   “STOP IT.”

She heard the strain in his voice and decided to keep pushing. It wasn’t difficult to make it up as she went along. Part of her felt guilty for talking badly about someone she didn’t know all that well, and about someone her trainee cared about very much, but she shoved it down.

   “Why, can’t hear the truth? Face it, Papyrus, everyone pities that sad sack you call a brother; it’s not like anyone actually likes him.”

   “I DO!” he shouted defiantly. He’d gathered his arms and legs under him and hunched his back, his form shaking.

   “Do you? You sure you don’t just put up with him because you have to? Because really, that’s the only reason I can think of for anyone to stick around him.”

   “UNDYNE.”

   “I can help with that if you want. Hell, I’ll go over there myself and put the poor bastard out of his misery.”

She grinned widely and made to move toward the entry of their practice cave.

   “In fact, I’ll go do that right now,” she said viciously, a green spear materializing in her hand. “You just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

She paused as she saw a wall of bone block her way out. The pattern was uneven, the long shafts of bone overlapping in some places. Some were glowing with orange energy, some blue, some simply white. As she got a little closer, she noticed that the bones were cracked in some places and she could hear the hum of magic coming off the constructs. They’d been overcharged, she realized with a raised brow. Feeling a heavy presence behind her, she turned and saw that Papyrus was on his feet, his stance a little awkward, still half hunched and his knees turned inward. His expression was empty, his hands twitching into claws before settling into clenched fists. Every few seconds, his right eyesocket would flicker with orange light shaped like an actual eye.

   “I SAID.”

She heard a faint ‘ding’ and felt her body grow heavy. Startled, she looked down and saw that she was lined in blue magic. Looking back up at him, she felt unease churn in her gut at the continuing lack of expression. Had she pushed too far? No, this was good, she told herself.

   “STOP.”

Undyne scoffed, lifting her spear toward him with a little more effort than normal.

   “You think this is gonna stop me? I don’t think you remember who you’re dealing with here, punk.”

   “I DON’T NEED TO REMEMBER.”

With that, he lurched toward her, moving much more quickly than he did before. Undyne barely had enough speed to lift her spear to block the fist that was aimed at her solar plexus, but the strike against her weapon was still hard enough to send her back a couple of feet and hissed as her back grazed the bone wall, the magic burning against her skin even through her shirt. He had followed her movement and he finally held some emotion, a glare being leveled at her a mere foot from her face. From this distance, she could get a good look at the “eye” he’d developed, hovering inside the black socket and emitting faint wisps of orange magic. The weight of its stare was almost unsettling.

   “YOU WILL GO NOWHERE NEAR MY BROTHER.”

So his hot button was definitely his brother. Good to know. She laughed in his face, a single brow raising and her grin becoming lopsided. Honestly, she was probably pushing her luck taunting him like this, but she smelled a challenge—a really _great_ one.

   “Let’s see you try to keep me away.”

And then her spear was slicing at the air he had occupied only moments before. She launched herself away from the wall, running off to the side and scrambling up to a small ledge. Lifting a hand, dozens of spears materialized around her and pointed at Papyrus, who was staring up at her, his fists clenched and that damned creepy orange eye boring into her. She felt frustration at her unease swell in her breast.

   “Dodge this!” she cried.

With a loud ‘NGAHHHH!’ of effort, she let fly her missiles and watched as they swarmed the doomed skeleton. Of course, she was disappointed that it’d be done so soon, but he was also going up against the Captain of the Royal Guard. Even his best effort would not beat her. She couldn’t fault him for losing.

Except he didn’t.

He had set his legs apart, bent at the knees and brought his arms up in an ‘x’ pattern. When the missiles got close enough, he crouched a little farther down and flung his arms out to his sides. With wide eyes, she watched as a large ring of bone spring up around him, curling up into a protective dome. Actually, the bones looked a lot like…ribs.

   “Holy shit,” she muttered.

Papyrus had summoned a protective ribcage. She would have laughed if she wasn’t so amazed. However, her distraction proved to be a mistake when she felt something slam into her side and knock her off her perch. It felt like a wall had hit her. She turned her head to see the attack and gawped as she saw a gigantic skeletal hand sink into the ground. A _hand_!?

   “Papyrus, what the—”

The words died in her throat when Undyne saw him standing in the same place, two undulating haloes of bone behind him in alternating shades of blue, orange, and white. The smaller ring was mostly blue and orange, four white bones in the places of the cardinal directions and the outer ring was mostly white, cracked and jagged like the wall blocking the entrance of the cave.

With a very subtle shift of his fingers, the bones spread out in a smooth motion on both sides of him to make several arcs of varying sizes, almost like a skeletal outline of giant wings.

   “MY TURN.”

It was a flurry of motion as Undyne summoned multiple spears and directed them to intercept the incoming projectiles, the spear in her hand acting as a last line of defense.

   “NOT GOOD ENOUGH!”

A few of the remaining bones suddenly changed direction, dodging the nearby spears and flying in to strike at her shoulders and knees. She wouldn’t be able to block all of them—deflect one, maybe. Her eyes were wild, her grin twisting in excitement and satisfaction, as a bright flash of green filled the cavern.

Papyrus felt his attacks strike and dissipate, and frowned slightly in confusion. He was presented with a green glow as his vision re-adjusted and saw that Undyne was standing smugly behind a barrier composed of green magic. If he remembered correctly, green magic was one of the strongest defenses available to monsters, but it rendered them immobile. How fast could Undyne manipulate that shield and for how long? He narrowed his eyesockets in contemplation, his temper causing the gears in his head to turn double-time. With a flick of his hand, jagged bones surrounded the barrier and flew down simultaneously, all bouncing harmlessly off the humming green magic.

   “Gonna have to do better than that, numbskull.”

He tilted his head to the side, considering her. For all her bluster, he could tell that she was nervous. She’d never used green magic before, at least not in its full capacity like this. His gaze followed a bead of sweat that traveled from her forehead down to her chin, dropping down to the stone below. Below. Yes.

   “I SEE.”

Undyne’s jaw tightened as she saw the giant skeletal hand from before rise up around her, wrapping around her shield. She contemplated dismissing it and running, but she’d be open as soon as she got away. Her barrier could hold against a hand attempting to crush her. She blinked when the ground beneath her flashed green, the edges of her shield forming a second floor as the hand lifted her in the air.

   “What?”

And then she was flying, crashing into the ground with a loud crack. She felt her concentration waver as she tried coming to grips—she groaned internally, thinking to herself that Sans would love that joke—with what he’d just done. He’d thrown her. Like a ragdoll. He must have known crushing pressure wouldn’t have worked, so figured breaking her hold over magic would have been a better option. Stars. She rose to her feet, feeling a headache coming on from the heavy draw of magic. Her barrier held, she realized in satisfaction.

   “Nice try, Papyrus. But it’s going to take more than that to get past my defense.”

   “IS THAT RIGHT?”

A skull was staring her down, but it wasn’t Papyrus’s. It was large, shielding Papyrus’s face and torso from view. The shape of its features was familiar. She’d seen it once while looking through one of Alphys’s lame science books, waiting for her to finish whatever dorky cartoon she was watching. She had been invited several times to watch the shows, claiming they were a fantastic representation of life Aboveground, but so far she’d refused. Maybe one day, if she was bored enough. She took in the large fangs, the glowing orange eyes.

Lion skull.

He’d summoned a freakin’ lion skull!?

   “LET US SEE HOW YOUR DEFENSE DOES AGAINST PURE MAGIC.”

She watched as the skull’s mouth opened and light began pooling in its mouth.

   “Papyrus, what the hell is that thing!?”

There was no reply, and she braced herself as the hum of magic grew louder. The ball of magic was growing larger, the light it gave off hiding the rest of Papyrus’s body. She had a feeling this was going to hurt. A lot.

   “Shit.” Was the only thing she managed to say before the skull let loose a blinding beam of light, shaking entire cavern.

When Papyrus’s sight readjusted again, he saw Undyne crumpled against the far wall, a shallow trench marking her path. His mind quickly caught up with what he’d just done and his fury fled instantly, being replaced with panic.

   “OH NO. UNDYNE? UNDYNE!”

He ran over to her, his hands hovering near her limp form wanting to touch, but afraid.

   “UNDYNE, PLEASE, CAN YOU HEAR ME? OH…OH STARS, I KILLED THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD! THEY ARE GOING TO HANG ME! I AM GOING TO BE TRIED FOR TREASON AND MURDER AND PUT IN A DUNGEON FOREVER!! I AM GOING TO BE FED TO AN ARMY OF ANGRY SHARKS!!! NYOO HOO HOOOO!”

There was a small cough beneath him.

   “There aren’t sharks down here…dumbass…”

He swept up her body, drawing her in for a hug.

   “OH UNDYNE, I AM SO SO SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I DIDN’T MEAN TO! I JUST. I GOT SO ANGRY AND AFRAID AND…”

   “Chill, dude. That was the best fight I’ve ever gotten out of you. More performances like that and you’ll be on a one-way track to joining the Guard.”

   “BUT…BUT I HURT YOU AND…I’VE. I’VE NEVER ACTED THAT WAY BEFORE. I DON’T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME. IT IS…QUITE UNPLEASANT.”

Undyne pushed away from him and propped herself against the wall, her grin tired.

   “Yeah, it wasn’t the best way to do things, but you gotta admit it got results. It was freakin’ awesome!”

   “I…I SUPPOSE.”

She laughed to herself as she took in his guilt-ridden expression.

   “Come on, nerd, you can make it up to me by helping me to my house and fixing up some tea for us.”

He scrambled to his feet and picked her up effortlessly. Cripes, when had he gotten powerful enough to pick her up without having to brace himself? Stupid skeletons and her inability to gauge their strength.

   “I said help me to the house, not carry me!”

   “BUT THIS _IS_ HELPING!”

She wasn’t sure how he managed to give her puppy eyes, but he did and she huffed to herself in frustration.

   “Alright, fine, whatever.”

Upon reaching her house and tea was put in her hands, she received a stern lecture from Papyrus about how Sans, while flawed, was quite the amazing brother and upstanding monster, blah blah blah. She nodded along to his words, eventually cutting him off with a hand on his shoulder and a “Okay, Papyrus, I get it.”

It was a hope of hers that he was finally over his little mental block, but it seemed he was even more hesitant than ever, doing his best to control his temper and chastising her when she tried threatening Sans in an effort to get him angry again. She sighed to herself. He was just too gentle. He wasn’t cut out for this business. Oh well, she thought. She could teach him something else. He did always complain about Sans bringing home takeout so often, claiming he was going to start sweating grease any day now. Cooking could be a good alternative.

Protection of the crown and dealing with a possible human threat could be left to the professionals.


	6. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music could express what we could not, even at our most eloquent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

**[10 Years Ago]**

_“cripes!”_

_Sans leapt away from the console as it sparked wildly, his hands coming up to shield himself. His shoulders sagged and he rubbed at his face tiredly._

_“this couldn’t possibly get any worse…”_

_He growled lowly as the power went out._

_“you’ve gotta be frickin’ kiddin’ me.”_

_Gaster called out to him from across the room._

_“Are you okay, Sans?”_

_“yeah, yeah, i’m fine."_

_His voice dipped into a mutter._

_"i’ll be fantastic once i smash this stupid thing to pieces.”_

_The emergency lights kicked on, softly lighting the room in dull red. Sans could see the other monster trying not to smile._

_“And what could you possibly gain from doing that?”_

_“it’d make me feel better.”_

_A chuckle was his response._

_“Come, Sans. Let’s put this aside for today. I think we could both use a drink after everything that has happened in the last couple of months.”_

_Sans sighed in frustration, moving away from his source of grief. Everything they had tried so far when building the machine had led to failure. Too much energy output. Not enough. So many wrong calculations. He was beginning to wonder if what they were trying to do was even possible, if he was even qualified to work on so ambitious a project. He looked up at Gaster, trying to push all the disappointment from his mind._

_“you got a stash at the lab or somethin’?”_

_“Heavens, no. And leave Papyrus to find it? I would be a terrible guardian.”_

_The shorter monster gave a short bark of laughter._

_“imagine papyrus drunk, though?”_

_Gaster shook his head, trying to look horrified (and failing)._

_“I would fear for us all.”_

_“i bet he’d be a cuddly drunk.”_

_“If by ‘cuddly’ you mean clinging like a koala and cutting off our air supply with a grip so tight only someone as strong as our king could pull him off, then yes.”_

_Sans snorted into his hand._

_“okay, yeah. yeah, i can see that.”_

_“But that won’t happen until Papyrus is a grown monster. No sneaking him drinks just to see it early, understand?”_

_“aw, cmon g. what you don’t know isn’t going **tequil’ya**.”_

_“I’m going to know when Papyrus wakes up with a hangover. And then I’m going to come after you.”_

_“you wouldn’t have any **proof**.”_

_Gaster looked over at Sans with a raised brow._

_“The proof would be all over your face. You are terrible at lying when the lie involves something funny. You’d have a smug grin just like the one you’ve got on now.”_

   “ ** _vodka’n_**  i say? it’s hard for me to hide when i’m in **_high spirits_**.”

_The two of them chuckled as they began walking out of the room. Sans shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat, mentally taking guesses as to when the lights would cut back on._

_“hey so if we’re not going to the lab, where are we going?”_

_“There is a nice little bar on the outskirts of the capitol that we can go to. The atmosphere should help relax the tension that’s been building up.”_

_Sans nodded in agreement. He winced when the lights came back on with a click, green afterimages flashing behind his closed sockets. Welp, guess he owed himself five gold._

_“We will head out after we have dropped off our coats and told Papyrus where we are going.”_

_“sounds like a plan.”_

 ~~~~~~~~~~

_Papyrus had been mildly put out when Gaster told him he couldn’t come along, but had perked right up when the monster told him he could watch the TV (Gaster had spent a solid three weeks trying to fix it up after finding it in the dump) until they returned._

_“YOU MEAN IT!??”_

_“Of course I mean it._ Temmie and Friends _should be running a marathon this weekend, so you will be plenty entertained.”_

_The young skeleton scowled._

_“THAT SHOW IS FOR BABYBONES! I’M GOING TO WATCH_ FLUFFY BUNNY: THE ANIMATED SERIES _!”_

_“wasn’t that show canceled?”_

_“WHAT?!”_

_Tears began welling in Papyrus’s eyesockets._

_“NYOOOOOO…”_

_Sans shot forward, his arms wrapping around his brother’s shoulders. Gaster hid his smile behind his curled fingers._

_“hey, hey, don’t cry!” he said in a slightly panicky voice. “c’mon paps, i know you’re a lot cooler than to cry over some tv. i bet you’ll find somethin’ even better than fluffy bunny to watch. right, g?”_

_“Quite. In fact…”_

_Gaster moved over to a small shelf near the TV and pulled out a few tapes._

_“Why don’t you choose one of these? They are old nature documentaries of the Above. Perhaps you will find something you enjoy?”_

_Stars lit up Papyrus’s eyesockets._

_“YOU MEAN IT!? I CAN WATCH THESE!??”_

_“You keep asking me as if I am going to deny you, Papyrus. These are educational videos. Why should I not foster your desire to learn more?”_

_If there was one thing that Gaster wished for more than anything the few times he’d go see the “stars” in Waterfall, it’d be that Papyrus always be as happy as he was now, and that Sans and Papyrus always have each other when he was gone, whenever that time came._

_“We will not be out too long, perhaps just long enough for you to watch two of those tapes. Is that amenable?”_

_He tried not to laugh when Papyrus scrunched his brows in confusion._

_“AMENA-WHAT?”_

_Sans answered for him, his hand reaching up to scratch playfully at Papyrus’s skull. The younger skeleton laughed and pushed Sans’s hand off with an indignant—but happy—“HEY!”._

_“he means is that alright with you?”_

_“OH! YEAH, JUST DON’T STAY LATER! AND BE CAREFUL! AND DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS!”_

_Gaster and Sans both opened their mouths at the same time._

_“yes, dad.”_

_“Yes, Papyrus.”_

_“SANS, I AM NOT YOUR FATHER! STOP THAT!”_

_“should we look both ways before crossing the street, too? you wanna tuck me in when i get home?”_

_“SANS, I’M SERIOUS!”_

_“hey serious, i’m sans.”_

_Papyrus threw his hands in the air, letting out a frustrated shriek. He promptly turned from them and shoved a cassette in the VCR before flopping down on the couch, his arms crossing over his chest in what Sans assumed was a pout._

_“JUST GO! I DON’T NEED ANY MORE OF YOUR ATROCIOUS HUMOR!”_

_Gaster nudged Sans gently in the shoulder and tilted his chin in the other skeleton’s direction, his brows raising and his stare pointed. Sighing softly to himself, Sans scratched at his head and moved over to the ratty futon that served as their couch. His arms wrapped around Papyrus from behind, his skull rubbing affectionately at the side of his brother’s._

_“we’ll see you later, pap.”_

_There was a soft huff of resignation before Papyrus gripped at Sans’s wrists and squeezed, accepting the unspoken apology._

_“BYE-BYE, SANS.”_

_Sans let go and moved back to join Gaster, sparing one last look at his brother before walking out the door. A more protective side of him wanted to stubbornly insist on bringing Papyrus with them. His brother could handle being around alcohol, he wasn’t that young. He just honestly didn’t feel comfortable leaving Papyrus alone. But Sans left him alone plenty of times, his logical mind reasoned. Heck, every day since they’d started working on the machine, Sans and Gaster had been out in other sections of the lab, working on this, that, or the other. In fact, they’d left Papyrus alone at times even before then, when Sans had hit puberty and had needed regular checkups to monitor his magic level. The boy had been alone plenty of times. It would be fine. They were just…going a little farther this time. Sans relaxed a little, his hands sliding into his pants pockets._

_Gaster spoke lowly to him as they walked toward the elevator._

_“Do you feel better?”_

_Sans looked up at the other monster in mild surprise, then sighed, his shoulders sagging in helpless amusement. Of course Gaster would notice that he was tense._

_“yeah, a little.”_

_“We won’t be far, I promise you.”_

_“i know.”_

 ~~~~~~~

_The bar, named City Limits for its proximity to the capitol, was actually really nice, more of a lounge, really. The bar lay to their left, and a small stage sat in the upper right corner, set with a piano. Low, cushioned chairs in clusters of 4 surrounded tables spaced throughout the floor, and a couple of couches sat against the walls. A smattering of patrons spoke in low voices, their expressions relaxed. Low atmospheric lighting made any lingering tension in Sans’s shoulders fade away, and the pleasant smell of food and alcohol entered his nasal cavity._

_“this is…a lot nicer than i was expecting.”_

_“Please, Sans, don’t insult my taste. I would not have brought us here if it were anything less than “nice”. Let us go have a seat at the bar.”_

_Sans took a seat on one of the available stools, looking over the menu and humming to himself in thought._

_“spider cider? what’s that?”_

_The bartender, a tall and slender monster that looked quite similar to a gazelle, moved over to Sans, putting the dishrag he had been holding over his shoulder._

_“It’s a new drink made by one of my assistants. She’s fairly new, but has potential to be a great mixer. You should try her pastries, too. They’re pretty delicious!” he said proudly._

_Sans nodded._

_“alright, i’ll take a cider and uh…whatever pastry you immediately have available.”_

_“Coming right up.”_

_A tapping noise dragged his attention from the bartender to his companion, and took in the way his fingers were tapping and his right foot was twitching against its perch. Odd. Gaster didn’t make idle movements._

_“…g? you alright?”_

_The other monster looked down at him, a brow raised. Sans motioned to his hands._

_“you’re a bit energetic there.”_

_Gaster followed the motion to his tapping and sighed, his fingers stopping their movement._

_“I will have you know that I am not infallible, Sans. I am just as susceptible to feelings as you are. It’s nothing to worry about, really. I just feel…exposed.”_

_“exposed?”_

_The monster rolled his shoulders slightly and Sans followed the movement, coming to a realization only seconds later._

_“ohhhh. why didn’t you just bring it along?”_

_“I have surrounded myself in my work for years—many years. Perhaps I had hoped to shed my role and everything associated with it for a few hours, but…it is all I’ve known since even before you and Papyrus. Being without it has left me somewhat uncomfortable.”_

_“well hey. Maybe a few drinks will dull it a bit, get you to forget about a little coat.”_

_Gaster hummed thoughtfully, his hands lacing together._

_“Yes, perhaps. But it is no easy thing. Perhaps you think it silly of me to attach so much meaning to a garment, but…when you have worn something as long as I have worn that coat, you will realize it is as much a part of you as your own limbs.”_

_Sans stared down at his dress shirt and slacks and briefly considered what it’d be like to wear them every day of his life. He scrunched his nasal cavity at the thought. He was lazy, but that just sounded nasty._

_His eyelights flew back up when he heard a soft ‘clunk’ in front of him and saw that the bartender had placed down a rather delicate-looking glass down on the bar. Now, granted he’d never had cider before, but he was pretty sure the top of the purplish-red liquid wasn’t supposed to be covered in spiderwebs. Were there **lumps** floating in there?_

  _“uhh…this is…”_

_“Oh, no one expects what they get, trust me,” the horned monster said off-handedly, “but it’s a lot better than you think. Just don’t drink it too fast. Lotta patrons have done that and ended up falling flat on their face when they get up.”_

_“…huh. noted.”_

_The bartender turned his attention to Gaster._

_“Will you be getting anything, sir?”_

_“Hmm,” Gaster replied, his eyelights flicking from item to item on the board, “an Old Fashioned, if you please.”_

_Sans looked over at him once the bartender moved away._

_“do you have any idea what you just ordered?”_

_Gaster’s reply was immediate. His eyelights met Sans’s, glittering with restrained humor._

_“No.”_

 ~~~~~~~~~

_The next hour passed quietly, the two monsters jumping from topic to topic. Both of them were on their second drink, but whatever was in the cider was hitting Sans a lot harder than the contents of Gaster’s drink. As the conversation turned back toward work and possible solutions, Sans interrupted the flow of conversation by pushing his glass aside and crossing his arms on the bar, his chin coming down to rest on them._

_“g,” Sans began, his tone low and bitter, “i d’nno if i got what it takes t’ get this project completed. ev’rything’ve done so far ‘s been a dead end. maybe m’ theories were just…flukes, y’know?”_

_Gaster hummed into his drink, his eyelights focusing on Sans out of the corners of his eyesockets._

_“You are…incredibly talented, Sans. I would not have asked you to participate in this project if I didn’t think you were able.”_

_Sans said nothing to this, taking another quick swig of the drink (exactly as the bartender had warned him not to) and scowling at the counter, his inebriated state taking away his ability to hide his expressions. It was quiet for a moment, both monsters lost in their thoughts. Sans scrunched his brows after a bit as he took in a sound that he wasn’t familiar with. It was…soothing. Where was it coming from? He turned his head toward the stage and saw no one there. No. He let himself focus. The sound was closer. A lot closer. Low in volume, low in pitch, and making him sway slightly in his seat. The sound was…it was…_

_“g…’re you…humming?”_

_The sound stopped. Gaster cleared his throat._

_“Ah, yes. I suppose I was.”_

_“had no idea y’ had a musical bone in ya body.”_

_The taller monster idly swirled the contents of his glass, his eyelights following the undulations of the liquid with a disinterested expression._

_“Humans are capable of creating beautiful things, you know. Music is a good example of this.”_

_“yeah?”_

_Gaster nodded, the cup being placed gently against the counter._

_“There was never any singular focus on it, but throughout the ages, many talented humans created musical works that…” he seemed to struggle for words for a second, “that transcended simple words. They even created works in their languages to paint a story with emotions, with life, that no simple narrator could ever do justice.”_

_His eyelights dimmed, his grip on the cup tightening and his expression becoming bitter._

_“If only they’d chosen to focus on creating such beauty instead of their petty squabbling for land. Perhaps we would not be where we are now.”_

_“d’ y’ know any more?”_

_“Any more what?”_

_“music. songs. whatever.”_

_Gaster was quiet for longer than Sans was expecting and he tore his eyelights away from his drink to see what the hold-up was. His creator was staring down at his hands, twitching his fingers curiously._

_“g?”_

_The monster sighed, shifting his body so that it was facing away from the bar._

_“I know one.”_

_And then he was on his feet, moving away from Sans. He stopped to murmur something to a waitress who nodded her head vigorously, a smile on her face. Other monsters paused in their conversations as he passed them by, their expressions rife with curiosity. A sort of stillness had fallen over the lounge and Sans felt something resembling bewilderment as he saw Gaster sit down in front of the piano. Surely he didn’t mean to…_

(song played: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tm83Y4NIHbA )

_As Gaster began to play, Sans slowly felt his mouth falling open, his grip on his glass becoming slack. By Asgore, what was this? It was so…smooth. Melancholy. He took a cursory glance at the other patrons and they all had similar expressions to his own, their eyes wide and their mouths open slightly. Even the bartender was affected, no longer moving and his eyes shut, swaying in place._

_The notes coiled around his soul, warming it, making him feel safe but at the same time, almost lonely. He’d had no idea that Gaster had even been capable of playing an instrument, much less with this level of skill._

_Were there other things he didn’t know about Gaster? He realized that there wasn’t much that he knew about his creator at all, aside from his working habits and his gradually changing behavior in regards to him and his brother. What were Gaster’s hobbies? He liked fixing things. He liked science, obviously. He liked music, if the somewhat entranced look on the monster’s face was anything to go by. What else?_

_Sans couldn’t see perfectly, but the glide of his creator’s fingers across the keys was effortless, gentle. It was almost hypnotic. Every soft pause, every swell of volume, every press of his foot to change the quality of the notes felt like a whisper against his bones._

_It had been okay joking around with Gaster, it had been easy to taunt and tease him and generally be a nuisance, because it was something he did with everybody he knew. Their relationship had been, for the most part, kept strictly to the surface, save those few events when he was younger that had been a touch more personal. Every event had involved Papyrus; at least, every event where he was conscious. It may have been more touching to be saved by Gaster had he been aware of the fact, but he had been…well. Dying. This…seeing Gaster like this, getting lost in himself and the music he was creating was almost too real. It gave him layers. And he was showing those layers to Sans of his own volition. The younger monster felt something twist in his gut at the thought._

_He stared down at his hands. If Gaster knew how to play an instrument, did that mean he could, too? It was a little late to try learning how to play something, but…maybe he could? Maybe it could be a fun hobby, something to do when he needed to get away from his work just like now. He would have to ask later when the room wasn’t wobbling so much and he didn’t want to yell at Gaster to go back to acting like a snarky bastard._

(A/N: **If the piece has not finished or isn't very close to finishing by this point, you may pause here and wait for it to finish if you want Gaster to finish the piece at the same time.** )

_Gaster’s fingers began to slow their movement on the keys and came to a slow stop, his shoulders drooping as the piece came to an end. The other patrons stood and began to clap, smiles on every single face. As if just barely realizing that he had just performed in front of a crowd, Gaster jerkily got to his feet and made a bow that still managed to be elegant despite his obvious embarrassment. He made his way back to the bar, his posture stiff and his head held high. If Sans squinted hard enough—which he was—he could see just the barest hint of violet near the other monster’s cheekbones. He watched attentively as Gaster picked up what was left of his drink and stare at it as if he were contemplating something, then put it back down, calling over the bartender and requesting a water._

_“That was some really great playing, sir. You’ve put a smile on everyone’s face tonight, and for that, your drinks are on the house this one time.”_

_“Oh that’s not necessary, I really didn’t…”_

_The bartender held up a hand, a warm smile lighting up his face._

_“I’ll hear nothing of it. Take a look around you! I don’t think I’ve seen my patrons this happy in ages.”_

_Gaster did so with a small shift of his head, feeling another small wave of embarrassment as he took in all of the smiling faces._

_“I…thank you.”_

_“No, thank_ you _. I’ll be right back with your water.”_

_Gaster sighed softly to himself, his long fingers coming to rub at his temples as if he were developing a headache. Sans nudged him, a gesture that Gaster really, really wanted to ignore. He turned his attention to Sans anyway._

_“Yes?”_

_“i had no idea y’could play like that. or…at all. tha’s…tha’s really neat. what other stuff can y’ do?”_

_The taller monster frowned, taking in Sans’s flushed complexion, then glanced at the nearly empty glass of cider. Only his second one and he was practically gone. Just what was in that drink?_

_“Sans, you are drunk.”_

_“tha’ doesn’ answer my question. what else y’ got up ya sleeves?”_

_“I…don’t have many other hobbies. I like fixing things. And I taught myself the piano.”_

_Sans squinted at him, swaying in his seat. A pointed finger was shoved in Gaster’s face, and he patiently pushed the appendage away._

_“don’t b’lieve you for a second,” Sans slurred, his sockets drooping. “y’know how much it sucks to realize y’know nothing ‘bout the guy who ya brother calls ‘dad’?”_

_Gaster’s eyesockets widened marginally, his soul thumping in his chest. Where was he going with this? Sans continued on, completely ignoring the change in his creator’s expression._

_“watchin’ ya made me think…i’ve been livin’ with a stranger, a, a coworker. i didn’t…i didn’t help it along all that much, but…” he finally made eye contact with Gaster, his mouth a curious half-frown, “i wanna know more. if…if bro loves ya…and y’take such good care of us…that’s…gotta mean somethin’, right? means you’re worth gettin’ ta know.”_

_Sans stopped talking, looking away and laying his chin on top of his crossed arms as he had earlier. The bartender returned at that moment to quietly place down the glass of water, looking between the two seated monsters and smiling to himself. Gaster murmured a quick ‘thank you’ and took several quick sips of the water, letting out a nearly silent sigh when he put the glass down. A nod from the bartender was his response before the horned monster moved away._

_“Sans…will you still think this way when you are sober in the morning?”_

_There was a jerky motion from Sans as he tried nodding without lifting his head._

_“’s prolly my fault. things were rocky in th’ beginnin’, and i guess i never got ova’ that.”_

_Gaster shifted uncomfortably._

_“I know. And…you are completely validated for feeling the way you do. It never really occurred to me to ask for forgiveness, because I was so convinced that what I was doing was right. In a way…I still do. Had I not thought the way I did, you would not be here, and neither would Papyrus. Logically, my past self would have never known the difference had you never come into this world and would have continued on, blissfully ignorant. But my current self is honestly rather aghast at the thought.”_

_Gaster gave Sans a small, sad smile._

_“How deprived my past self would have been, to have not had you two to drive me up a wall, to make me smile, to make me remember that my life doesn’t have to be all work…as much as the majority of me says that all work and no play makes me a productive member of society as I should be.” He took a small breath. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I understand, and would be willing to have more personal discussions with you if you would like them.”_

_The twitch of Sans’s head was much smaller this time._

_“yeah…sounds…great…”_

_Gaster sighed with a small smile as he watched Sans drift off. Briefly, he wondered how much the boy had heard of his rant. Probably half, at best. He lightly scolded himself at his own verbosity, cursing the second Old Fashioned that he’d had. But…he supposed it couldn’t be all that bad. There had been remarkable progress between the two of them today that probably would never have been made otherwise. He stood and lifted Sans into his arms, frowning as he felt his legs wobble for a second before staying still. Doing a quick calculation of how long it would take to get home, he sighed, not looking forward to the trek. What he wouldn’t give to be able to teleport right now. The bartender and several other patrons waved at him, calling their goodnights, and he nodded at them in response, making his way to the door._

_“Let’s go home,” he said softly._

* * *

 

Sans jerked into an upright position with a gasp, his chest heaving and his left eyesocket filling with blue. Another nightmare. Damn it. Stars above, he hated nightmares. Not that one could ever love them, but the frequency in which they visited him was beyond bothersome by this point. He rubbed at his skull, sighing heavily. He had been doing so well since coming to the surface, the nightmares receding to perhaps once a week, if that. In fact, lately his dreams had been on the more…interesting side. Of course, they weren’t any better than the nightmares once he was completely coherent. He swung his feet over the edge of the mattress, then stopped, the gears in his head turning. Usually at this point, Papyrus would be in his room, talking him down from his budding panic attacks. Maybe he was sleeping deeply?

As he sat there in the silence, he took stock of his shaking. Not bad, but not fading. The sensation of a knife twisting between his ribs came to him again and he shuddered, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around his torso. Distraction, he needed a distraction. He would be loathe to wake Papyrus from his sleep just to help him out. He’d done enough of that by now. But what could he do? His eyelights flickered over to a splash of color against the dark abyss of his closet. A smile began to grow on his face.

That would work.

~~~~~~~~~~

Papyrus groggily opened his eyesockets, the darkened ceiling of his room coming into focus. Something in the back of his skull nagged at him, telling him there was something he was supposed to be doing. He heard the nearly silent footsteps in Sans’s room and sat up quickly, his soul lurching. Sans! It had become something like clockwork for Papyrus to check on Sans at precisely three in the morning, his brother’s nightmares prompting him to always check in to see if Sans was awake or not. He knew Sans appreciated the help, but didn’t want to trouble him. That was the problem with his brother, he huffed as he got out of bed. He always wanted to do everything on his own! Well not if The Great Papyrus could help it!

As he made his way down the hall toward Sans’s door, Papyrus frowned to himself. Why hadn’t he woken up? Sure his new job involved a lot of him being on his feet, but it wasn’t any worse than his days of patrolling! Perhaps it was the mental strain? Or perhaps it was the warm sun that bore down on him while he waited for Sans after work. It was beautiful and oh-so-comforting, but it made him feel like napping, which was something that Papyruses just didn’t do. It was against The Papyrus Code. Either way, he was awake now, and if Sans was awake, that meant it had been one of “those” nights. For a moment, he debated on how to proceed. If he knocked, there was a chance Sans would say he was fine and for him to go back to bed. If he simply opened the door, that would be a breach of Sans’s privacy, which was something he wanted to avoid. Knocking, then. It was when he was about to knock that he heard it.

Soft thrums of sound.

There were some slight distortions as Sans quietly tuned the instrument, and then it was silent. A few beats of Papyrus’s soul passed, and then he heard sound come from within the room again. Silently, he sank against the wall outside Sans’s room and felt his soul begin to beat a little faster. It had been a long time since Sans had touched his guitar, almost to the point where he’d forgotten Sans had even owned one. When he was young, he had often heard Sans practicing in his room for hours at a time, oftentimes until he exhausted himself. On top of that, he had taught himself how to sing, but it was something he kept close to himself, only performing for Papyrus once or twice and never bringing it up again.

( _The song playing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPz4W0fYY04 Sans is singing this an octave lower, the same octave that is sung at the end of this piece._ )

He tried imagining Sans at that moment, sitting on the edge of his bed with one foot tucked underneath his opposite femur, his head bent over his instrument and his eyes half shut. Papyrus wrapped his arms around his knees and shut his eyes as Sans began to sing, his voice low and smooth.

 _when you try your best, but you don’t succeed_  
_when you get what you want, but not what you need_  
 _when you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep_  
 _stuck in reverse_

_and the tears come streaming down your face_   
_when you lose something you can’t replace_   
_when you love someone, but it goes to waste_   
_could it be worse?_

_lights will guide you home_   
_and ignite your bones_   
_and i will try to fix you_

Papyrus couldn’t help but feel that the words his brother was singing had a more personal touch to them, and wasn’t just a simple tune. What had he lost? Who did he love that he felt it was wasted on? Who was he fixing? Or was he the one that needed to be fixed? Sans was perfect the way he was, Papyrus thought to himself. His arms squeezed around his legs as Sans began singing again.

_and high up above or down below_   
_when you’re too in love to let it go_   
_but if you never try you’ll never know_   
_just what you’re worth_

_lights will guide you home_   
_and ignite your bones_   
_and i will try to fix you_

The strumming of the guitar gained an undercurrent of energy that had Papyrus’s breaths grow more shallow. There was so much passion in Sans’s voice. Whatever he was singing about, _whom_ ever he was singing about, was obviously very, very important. Sans was obviously in love, or had been at one point. But with who? And why did he think so negatively of himself? He frowned at the ball of anxiety that began forming in his chest. ‘ _Relax, Papyrus_ ’, he told himself. Sans was venting. Let him.

_tears stream down your face_   
_when you lose something you cannot replace_   
_tears stream down your face and i_

_tears stream down your face_   
_i promise you i will learn from my mistakes (what mistakes, he wondered)_   
_tears stream down your face and i_

_lights will guide you home_   
_and ignite your bones_   
_and i will try to fix you_

Papyrus clenched his jaw and stared down at his knees when silence overtook the house again. It was taking everything he had to not just charge in the room and start asking Sans questions. But he’d resist. That area of Sans’s life was private; he’d be loath to interfere. He’d wait until Sans fell back asleep, and then he’d go back to his own room and wait until a more decent hour to make breakfast. Going back to sleep for him was simply out of the question. His entire plan flew out the window when he heard a quiet sniff and a muttering of “shit…”. Dash his concepts of privacy and the like. Sans needed him. He surged to his feet and opened the door, pushing his way inside the room.

Sans sat near the edge of the bed as he’d imagined, but his left foot was propped against the edge of the mattress and the other was dangling freely, his toes barely touching the floor. His arm rested on top of his raised knee and Papyrus saw him wiping furiously at his face with the sleeve of his other arm.

   “SANS?”

The short skeleton's body jerked, his head lifting to look at Papyrus. A few tears were still clinging to the edges of his eyesockets.

   “y-yeah, what’s up bro?”

Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His hands wrung themselves together, his expression twisting with worry.

   “bro? hey. it’s okay, i’m fine.”

It was very difficult not to yelp in protest when Papyrus strode forward and lifted him up into a hug. Oh, how his face burned as his arms instinctively wrapped around Papyrus’s neck. It was taking everything he had not to wrap his legs around his brother’s hips, too.

   “h-hey! put me down. what if you drop me?”

Papyrus’s arms squeezed tighter around him.

   “I WOULD NEVER.”

Despite the reassurance, he let Sans down anyway, placing him gently on the mattress. His eyesockets moved over to the guitar that was resting on Sans’s balled up sheets. It was a beautiful instrument, really. Its curves were soft and the body was a stained a rich shade of blue that faded into a deep black. The hole cut into the wood was bordered by a black and silver ring and spaced evenly inside the ring were pearlescent diamond shapes that Papyrus was sorely tempted to run his fingers across. Sans followed his gaze and smiled crookedly, one hand coming up to scratch behind his skull.

   “uh…yeah. i decided to get a little practice in.”

Papyrus raised a brow ridge.

   “PRACTICE…AT FOUR IN THE MORNING.”

   “uh…yup.”

   “PRACTICE THAT LED TO YOU WEEPING.”

   “…yup.”

The tall skeleton sighed and sat himself beside Sans, his hands resting flat against the mattress.

   “YOU HAD A NIGHTMARE.”

Sans had a feeling that his brother wouldn’t believe him if he said ‘no’. He sighed, too.

   “yup.”

   “AND YOU DECIDED TO TRY TO HANDLE IT ON YOUR OWN INSTEAD OF WAKING ME.”

   “yup.”

   “YOU KNOW YOU COULD HAVE.”

   “could have what?”

Papyrus had to resist curling his hands into fists.

   “YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN ME. I WOULDN’T HAVE MINDED.”

Sans’s expression soured, his eyelights becoming trained on the floor.

   “paps, i can’t always rely on you to chase the shadows away. i’m not gonna let myself be a burden.”

Sans flinched when Papyrus grabbed his shoulder and pushed, twisting his body to face him. Papyrus's expression was firm, but held a hint of pleading.

   “YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY _NOT_ A BURDEN AND NEVER WILL BE. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, SANS. I _WANT_ TO HELP YOU! YOU’VE SUPPORTED ME SINCE I WAS A BABYBONES. NOW PLEASE...PLEASE LET ME SUPPORT YOU.”

   “i…okay.”

   “GOOD. THANK YOU.”

Papyrus removed his hand and placed it on his lap where his other hand rested. The two skeletons were silent, becoming lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Papyrus turned his head to look at Sans.

   “YOU AREN’T GOING TO GO BACK TO SLEEP, ARE YOU?”

It was more of a statement than a question. Sans huffed lightly, his mouth twisting into a small crooked smile.

   “don’t s’pose you’d believe me if i said yes?”

The look Papyrus shot him was answer enough.

   “yeah, i thought not.”

There was another brief stretch of silence.

   “…wanna start up some coffee?”

Papyrus seemed to consider it for a moment before smiling softly.

   “ONLY IF YOU BRING THAT,” he pointed toward the guitar, “WITH YOU.”

   “y…you want me to play more?”

The smile on Papyrus’s face grew.

   “VERY MUCH SO! YOU ARE SO VERY TALENTED WITH BOTH YOUR VOICE AND THE GUITAR. IT’S A BIT OF A RARE TREAT TO HEAR SOMETHING AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOUR SINGING AND PLAYING.”

Sans flushed, his hands clenching where they rested on top of his shorts.

   “uh…thanks, pap. i’m not that great, though.”

His brother stood, turning away from him dismissively and moving toward the door.

   “I WILL HEAR NOTHING OF THE SORT. YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL VOICE AND CAN PLAY SUPERBLY. I WILL START THE COFFEE AND MEET YOU DOWNSTAIRS!”

And with a short ‘NYEH HEH!’ of satisfaction, he was gone. Sans stared at the open door, his expression dissolving into a helpless smile. He slowly pushed himself off the bed and made to grab the neck of the guitar.

   “i’ll be right there, bro.” he said softly to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of Firsts. Thank you for joining me.
> 
> Extra information: In the flashback, Gaster and Sans returned to find Papyrus asleep on the futon. He'd tried staying up to see them come home and didn't make it. Gaster has to put them both to bed and has to deal with Sans's hangover in the morning.
> 
> That flashback also made me lowkey ship Sanster, but in an alternate universe, like another story.


End file.
